Tread the Precipice
by AshtakRa
Summary: Merlin took Arthur’s place as a victim of the assassin’s bolt. Fate is fickle however and what does this mean for the one destined to be the once and future King? Sequel to Gaze on Oblivion. Merlin/Arthur slash
1. Chapter 1

_…_

**Title:** Tread the Precipice  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warning:** Dark themes, blood and medieval medical procedures.  
**Summary:** Merlin took Arthur's place as a victim of the assassin's bolt. Fate is fickle however and what does this mean for the one destined to be the once and future King? Sequel to Gaze on Oblivion.

**Disclaimer:** The Arthurian Legend belongs to the people of the world; the interpretation of characters borrowed for this story belong to the television series 'Merlin'.

Chapter One

Merlin had thought his final moments would be blessed with seeing Arthur healthy and whole, it would be peaceful and surely he would manage one last admittedly redundant declaration of love. Why not? Uther already wanted him dead and his wish would surely be only seconds away.

Of course, it was not that way at all. He couldn't breath, his chest a lead weight that did not allow him to take in air. Okay, so he could see the protruding head of the cross-bow bolt but where the hell was the weight coming from? Maybe he should have listened more to Gaius' teaching on medicine and the human body. Then there was the pain. Dull, and sharp at the same time and he was unable to scream or yell because there was the no breath thing. Blood, it was everywhere and it was his now, not Arthur's even though the Prince was now covered in it as he alternatively tried to stop the bleeding and hold Merlin's head in his arms.

Noise; there was so much of it. Voices raised, screams from afar and Arthur… above all he heard Arthur bellow for Gaius, and then he would curse his father – he would curse Merlin and order him to change them back, to undo what had been done. This almost made Merlin smile, the fact that even now Arthur would try to give him orders, as if he had followed them in the past.

Best of all he would bring his face close to Merlin's ear and whisper that he must hold on; that he would not lose him this way. It was almost enough to let Merlin feel okay about dying.

Except he wasn't, dying that was. Much as there was blood everywhere, and he couldn't breath and his vision was all blurry – the world did not fade away and the pain remained. Perhaps this was his punishment for ignoring all the rules, for doing what should never be done. Then another thought wiggled its way in, past the pain and the fear… maybe something was holding him here – not to torture him but to save him.

Maybe?

Gaius' Chambers, Camelot

"Put him on the table," ordered Gaius tersely, not daring to waste time watching them as he gathered what he needed from the shelves spread around the room. He heard the breaking of pots as the table was cleared and allowed himself to wince with the rude thought that even in the throes of mortal injury Merlin managed to make a mess.

Shuffling over he examined the wound, much easier to see in the beam of light from the window. The bolt was definitely lodged in one lung and although there was bleeding it was not arterial and that gave them time. He wiped away some blood to get a better understanding of the type of bolt and Merlin gasped and moved sharply.

"Hold him," snapped Gaius and the two knights did so immediately. They had arrived shortly after he had at the gate, probably preparing themselves to see their Prince dead. Instead the word that Arthur was slain was wrong, it was Merlin and he was still alive – barely. A word from Arthur had these two and the other half dozen Knights that followed both carry Merlin and make a hole through the ever increasing crowd.

Arthur had not left Merlin's side and even now, covered in blood and with a face so distraught, he refused any suggestion to leave. Gaius had to shake his head at the sight. Had it been twenty years ago the scene was not much different except it was Uther standing there with Igraine in his arms. Gaius had failed then, he promised himself today would be different.

"I said hold him by gods," he hissed again and used a sharp blade to remove the remnants of Merlin's shirt. "One wrong move and we could cause more bleeding." Picking up a piece of reed, sharpened at one end Gaius spared a look at Arthur. "This will sound worse than it is." He felt around and counted bones until he reached the point he was after, without waiting any longer he plunged the reed down, through Merlin's chest.

Arthur flinched at the sight and then turned away as, with a gurgling sound, bits of blood and flesh flew from the end of the reed. It only lasted a moment then a whistling could be heard as the air trapped in Merlin's chest escaped. Almost immediately Merlin gasped loudly and took a breath.

"Easy son," murmured Gaius, putting a hand to Merlin's cheek and looking into his eyes to ensure he heard him. "Lightly now, just soft breaths – you only have one lung working." Merlin must have heard because his panting slowed and he gave obvious signs of trying to relax his need for air.

Gaius grabbed one of Sir Bedivere's hands and made him put a finger on the reed's tip just as a whistling stopped. "Every few minutes you must release the air, otherwise Merlin will be unable to breath." The Knight, no older than Merlin, nodded silently and stared at his finger as if it alone was keeping Merlin alive.

Gaius nodded and pursed is lips. Like Arthur most of the knights had been reluctant to leave Merlin's side even when there was nothing for them to do. Was Merlin even aware of how much he had enamoured himself not just to Merlin but to Arthur's inner-circle?

He turned to Arthur, who was softly telling Merlin to not speak and just stay still; it was good to know that for once Merlin was listening and obeyed. Gaius forced Arthur from Merlin's side and led him to the wash basin where he washed Arthur's hands; for his part, the Prince knew enough of Gaius' medicinal methods to not argue.

"I have to warn you sire," said Gaius softly, hoping Merlin would not hear them. "I have never successfully treated a wound this serious."

Arthur breathed slowly. "If anyone can Gaius, it is you… but?"

"Yes Arthur," Gaius used his name, it was appropriate.

The Prince's lip trembled for only a moment. "What if something more could be done, something," he raised his head and stared straight at Gaius. "What if we used magic, it is why he's here and not me."

Gaius closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "No. Absolutely not."

"Why?" implored Arthur. "Merlin's already under threat of execution for using sorcery but I can assure you that neither him, nor anyone who uses magic to save him, will suffer that fate."

There was such resolve in his voice, such conviction that Gaius felt pride that finally the Prince was coming into his own, becoming the King he would one day be. That did not change the reality. "It cannot be Arthur, you think I wouldn't defy Uther to save Merlin? But it is because Merlin used magic that we cannot do the same. It may undo what has already been achieved, or worse."

"If it means I may end up back there instead of him I will take the risk," said Arthur without hesitation.

"That is not the risk Arthur," explained Gaius carefully. "Right now I may yet save him with medicine and science - and if I do the laws of nature have not been broken. It would be as if I had saved you with the same treatment, but if we invoke magic," he shrugged his arms to say that the results could be catastrophic. "It is not just your life, or Merlin's that could be in jeopardy, and Merlin would not want that."

Arthur finally nodded in understanding and stood tall, drying his hands on a clean cloth. "Tell me what you need Gaius, anything from anywhere and it will be done."

Gaius gave him a list, loud enough for everyone to hear. Nothing unusual, plenty of hot water, clean cloth and extra lanterns. That and privacy – no-one could disturb them, especially during the most dangerous part, the removal of the bolt.

The knights themselves moved to do as he asked Gaius spared a glance at Arthur with a questioning look and the Prince must have understood for he let his gaze wander about the room and he raised his voice. "Before we go further everyone should know the risk you undertake. My father may well punish any and everyone who helps Mer- Merlin." His voice caught on having to say the name and Gaius placed a hand softly on Arthur's shoulder.

The Knights only stopped while Arthur had been speaking, once finished they went immediately back to their tasks, not one hesitated nor left the room. Gaius smiled and he noticed a glimmer of one crossed Arthur's lips – with loyalty like this he would be not only a great King but a leader unparalleled.

Arthur returned to the table and whispered in Merlin's ear, smoothing his hair in the process; Merlin's eyes stared at him with utter trust and devotion. Not breaking eye contact with Merlin Arthur finally nodded and spoke softly. "Do it Gaius, do it now."

Gaius gripped the bolt with some pliers and prepared himself – on the battlefield this is usually when the patient suffered the most, and then died.

Not this time, promised Gaius, not Merlin.

Tbc…


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Tread the Precipice  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur  
**Rating:** MA  
**Warning:** Dark themes, blood and medieval medical procedures.  
**Summary:** Merlin took Arthur's place as a victim of the assassin's bolt. Fate is fickle however and what does this mean for the one destined to be the once and future King? Sequel to Gaze on Oblivion.

Chapter Two

King's Private Dining Hall, Camelot

King Uther, first of that name, paced before the heavy mahogany table and spared a glance at his ward.

"I do not ask you to be here Morgana; I am sure you would much rather be hovering around that traitor with the rest of the court." He said it blandly and without malice which made Morgana worry all the more. Anger she could understand, but this apparent indifference was something new.

"I am content to be here at _your_ side my Lord," she answered quietly, smoothing down a crease in her dress and eyeing off the pitcher of wine. It was quite improper to drink before the King had first partaken but the day was hot and dry and besides which… if ever there was a time.

"The court merely concerns itself with Arthur's welfare and through him your own."

Uther laughed humourlessly. "Do not try to placate me Morgana, I am well aware of the ebb and flow of Camelot. Today they saw magic perform a miracle and think it wondrous and fantastical – they will call for _him_ to be spared and beg of my mercy." He stopped pacing and placed his hands flat on the table, his brow creasing in the first signs of anger. "Yet they forget that magic in any guise is but a front for evil… today a life was saved but tomorrow?"

Morgana breathed slowly and remained seated. Over the past few months she had grown to understand Uther a great deal. While she still found some of his traits loathsome he was not the tyrant she once thought. Ruthless, and sometimes misguided but he was not always exerting power just for the sake of it. This time though, his depth of hatred for magic could override what should be an easy decision. Merlin had saved Arthur, again, and because of that Uther should spare his life – more than that he should elevate Merlin from servant to peer. Of course he would not do that unless carefully guided.

"Arthur is alive because of a simple truth my Lord – magic can be a force for good, as well as evil."

"That is the seduction of it," murmured the king. "You believe that with magic anything can be done – and in the right hands all will be well, but it won't and if I must be the monster to protect the kingdom from itself then so be it."

"A sword is sharp and deadly in any hands Uther, yet we do not outlaw them." She dared to use his name but he seemed not to notice and just gave her a hard stare.

"Nor do I allow my enemies to enter Camelot so armed Morgana," Uther countered. "A person is easily stripped of armour, or sword and knife – but magic cannot be so removed… the life of the sorcerer is what powers their magic and therefore it is life that must be removed."

Morgana stood and walked around to him, placing a hand over his. "An enemy's sword is no longer dangerous if you embrace them as friends – it can instead be turned to fight for you. How many times have we been attacked by magic Uther, and how valuable an ally would a sorcerer be to fight back?"

"The issue is trust," said Uther, not removing her hand nor commenting on the continued use of his name. "How do you trust someone who deals in sorcery – its very nature is pretence and trickery?"

"Merlin does not have a deceitful bone in his body my Lord-."

"Do-not-say-his-name," hissed Uther and made a fist with his other hand, noticeable he did not make a move against Morgana and this gave her hope.

She waited but when he said nothing more Morgana continued. "It was not magic that almost took Arthur's life today, but it was magic that saved him – and _Merlin_ would ask for nothing in return, not even his own life." She lifted both hands and placed them on Uther's cheeks. "You needs ask yourself if you trust Merlin, or is it that you fear him, aye, fear Uther Pendragon – I see it in your eyes and feel it in the cool of your hand every time I say his name."

She was expecting a denial, an outburst of anger but instead Uther slumped. His face seemed to take on ten years and she was sure the beginning of a tear formed at the corner of his eye.

"I have seen already the power Merlin has over my son – and that was without sorcery… _with_ it I fear not for my own soul, but for Arthur's."

Morgana was at first elated that Uther could at least say Merlin's name, but then the truth of his words sunk in. As a seer she sometimes knew prophecy when she heard it, and Uther had just spoken of future events that not even he could ever imagine.

Town Square, Camelot

"I saw it with my own eyes, a great blue flame shot out but hurt no-one, and where the Prince lay now was the Sorcerer hi'self. I ask yer, what man could do such a thing?"

Main Stables, Camelot

"A servant, like ourselves, and he brushes the King aside like he was nothing but a sack of bread… then he goes and saves Prince Arthur. Imagine it, a nobody who's able to do that? Makes you wonder doesn't it?

South Bridge, outside Camelot

"Twenty years I seen the magic folk go the gallows. Some I knew and aye, I liked them well enough but not close like. Yet the thought of this one troubles me, he did save young Arthur?"

The Alley outside Gaius' Chamber, Camelot

Knights Gallfoy and Haddon eyed the pikeman who trudged by and waited for the man to pass out of hearing.

"I've always liked Merlin, pity to see him burn… and then of course there's Arthur."

Sir Haddon smirked at his fellow's comments. "No need to sound me out Gallfoy, I think it'd be wrong and I'll do what I can to see it doesn't happen."

"Well, let's pray to the gods Uther sees sense. Merlin's good for Arthur and a sorcerer… I don't mind saying that considering what we've faced lately he'd be mighty useful."

This brought a laugh from Sir Haddon. "Poor Gallfoy, so blind I wonder how you've lived this long."

"What?"

Leaning in the knight clapped a hand on the other's shoulder. "You think Merlin hasn't saved us a dozen times already?"

A scream interrupted their talk, from inside and each bowed their heads. They had been around enough battles to know what was happening.

"So," whispered the first. "If the time comes?"

"We'll stand together, Uther will not have him," finished Sir Haddon, and was a little surprised at how much he meant it. Until today he'd never given Merlin much consideration, but all of a sudden the young man was all he could think about.

Inside

"Merlin!" shouted Arthur and held his face as Merlin's eyes rolled back and he slumped.

Gaius paused his padding of the wound and felt Merlin's neck. "Tis alright Arthur, he's just passed out. At last I must say, threading him back together will be much easier this way."

Noticing the slight humour Arthur relaxed a little. "This means you were successful Gaius, he will live?"

A smile graced the old man's face. "We must be careful of infection and I am not sure how his lung will fare but for now, yes, Merlin will live."

Arthur couldn't stop the grin and hugged Gaius tightly, the healer eventually having to force him back to continue his work. "If you don't mind sire – and while I'm busy you should clean up." Arthur hesitated and looked to Merlin, his expression full of concern. Gaius tutted firmly. "Arthur, you're covered in blood and your clothes are ruined, if Merlin wakes he will not want to see you this way."

Nodding slowly Arthur looked around the room. Amongst themselves the Knights had arranged for two to be at the door and one inside, just in case Uther sent guards. Luckily the King had done no such thing and they had not had to test their resolve.

"I will need to go to my rooms, my father may not let me leave once there."

"Already taken care of my Lord," spoke Gwen from the door. In her hands she held a bundle of clothes for Arthur.

He sighed in defeat and went over to take them, pecking a kiss to her cheek. "I think in private you can call me Arthur, we've been through enough recently to warrant a small informality?"

Gwen blushed and shook her head. "I don't think-."

"I insist Gwen," said Arthur and gave her his best smile. "Besides Merlin never waited for my permission to take such liberties, and I still like him well enough." His face grew more serious as Gwen nodded and turned to where Merlin lay. "He's asleep, but Gaius says it looks hopeful that he'll make a full recovery." The lie was a little one and besides, she probably knew better than him the chances of recovery from such a wound.

"That is good, I just worry that Uther," Gwen hesitated and turned back to Arthur. "My father, he wasn't even a sorcerer and look what happened – the whole city knows of Merlin now… Uther will have no choice."

"I know how much you care for him," Arthur spoke softly so only she could hear him and put an arm around her. "I promise you I'll let nothing happen and I want you to know how sorry I am that I could not do the same for your father – he was a good man and did not deserve-."

Gwen stopped him from saying anymore by kissing his cheek in return. The Prince smiled and moved to Merlin's room to change before looking back as Gwen sat by the bench and held Merlin's hand. Something about the two of them together sang to him, as if it was part of some harmony the universe had been waiting for. Arthur knew that whatever this connection was it included him. He did not put much faith in fortune telling but he had a feeling he had just felt a brush from the hand of fate.

Tbc…


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Tread the Precipice  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur  
**Rating:** MA  
**Warning:** Dark themes, blood and medieval medical procedures.  
**Summary:** Merlin took Arthur's place as a victim of the assassin's bolt. Fate is fickle however and what does this mean for the one destined to be the once and future King? Sequel to Gaze on Oblivion.

Chapter 3

Gaius' Chambers, Camelot

Throwing his soiled clothes in a heap Arthur washed himself down with the help of a cold bucket of water that had probably been sitting there for days. It crossed his mind to call for hot water but who would prepare it? Gwen would probably do it but that was hardly fair, he'd only just asked her to treat him as an equal and _not_ a Prince. Gaius was busy and his knights would probably just give him one of _those_ looks. Then there was Merlin. Merlin who even if he was fit and able would take too long and either get the temperature too hot or barely warm. Merlin who would slosh the water all over the floor, forget to have a towel waiting and be too skittish to help him bathe.

This thought made Arthur's brow knit in frustration. He had grown up being served by a literal army of men and women and not one had ever baulked at dressing him, bathing him or seeing him in all states of dress and undress. It was not something he had given much thought to; he was their prince and he supposed to them it was a job, a task. Had a maid ever given him an appraising look? Had a stableman ever let his eyes wander on him more than was appropriate? Yes to both, and Arthur had, on occasion, taken advantage of such admirers. But for each and every one they knew that it was nothing more than a bit of fun; no future in it and certainly no need for hesitation or awkwardness around the princely person.

Merlin had been obnoxious and sometimes outright belligerent and now when Arthur thought about it quite a dithering klutz especially when they were alone.

_I love you Arthur Pendragon_

The last thing Merlin had said to him, even if it was with magic. Arthur knew now his own feelings for Merlin and it would seem a strong possibility that Merlin returned the same desire. It was not just that he had said 'love' or that he had almost given his life. The proof was in the hundreds of hidden glances, the flash of a smile that brightened Arthur's day better than any springtime sun and, well it was spoken through his eyes.

Merlin had not grown up at court and was simply unable to hide his emotions and thoughts as easily as Arthur.

For all this evidence he had almost lost Merlin without ever doing anything about it. How many nights had they slept side-by-side, even on the same bed when necessary? He may be an inept servant but Merlin had never made a move and this both frustrated Arthur as he thought about it, and also made him respect Merlin a little more.

The man was a sorcerer; he could have powers beyond anyone's knowledge and this put him above a simple prince – yet he did not use his powers for his own desire. Merlin lay out there and did not know that his prince did indeed love him back.

Wiping at the moisture on his cheek Arthur looked at the tear in confusion. The crown-prince of Camelot does not cry. At least, that is what he had believed up until this very moment. Laying back on Merlin's bed clad in only his underclothes Arthur breathed in the scent that still clung to the surprisingly soft blanket.

It was all Merlin. Earthy but with some kind of fruity tang probably from those peaches he was always munching on.

More tears fell and Arthur let them. It was not for loss but how close he had come to losing everything that mattered.

Today he was allowed to cry.

King's Audience Chamber, Camelot

Uther held the cross-bow and pursed his lips in anger. This weapon had almost killed his son and revealed the treachery lurking in his own court.

"And you have the person responsible?"

"No sire," gulped the guardsman but stood his ground. He was well aware that if King Uther was displeased he could easily find himself in the dungeons or worse. "It was found atop the bakery, from that point he had vantage over the entire market and north-gate – this was a planned attack my lord."

The king glared at the man but held his anger, he had a feeling this man had more to say. "Go on."

This emboldened the guardsman who stepped forward and held out his hand for the cross-bow. Uther gave it and the man turned it over and brought the lever mechanism close for Uther to see. "The white substance is flour sire, and when I first studied it there was fresh dough – put there I believe to make us believe the baker is responsible."

Uther shifted in his seat and brought up a gloved hand to stroke his jaw in consideration. "You have spoken with the baker?"

"Missing," shrugged the guardsman. "Probably dead. But I am almost certain it was not him my lord." The man's confidence seemed to crumble as Uther glared at him but he continued anyway. "The morning's bread was already baked, and he would not prepare fresh dough until the evening, flour on the mechanism would implicate the baker but _fresh_ dough actually absolves him."

Standing Uther brushed past him and stalked around the room. "An assassin enters Camelot, attacks the crown-prince and escapes… all without anyone seeing him and you say he also has the time to place blame on one of my own citizens?"

"Yes sire," the guardsman whispered, scared to say more.

"You are aware that magic was used during the incident," continued Uther, his gaze becoming penetrating.

"Um," gulped the guardsman loudly. "My investigation has concentrated on the assassination attempt, I was informed the… the magic was after the event, sire." The last was gasped out, as if he thought Uther might strike him down on the spot.

Stalking right up to the other man Uther breathed slowly. "So _you_ have decided that the crime here is not magic related, so your _investigation_ is flawed."

"With respect my lord," spoke Morgana from the side. "Magic saved Prince Arthur, a weapon made by men almost killed him. If magic was the perpetrator Arthur would be laying on Gaius' table and not Merlin. Guardsman Jarrod was perhaps correct in following a line of inquiry that searches for a normal man, and not a sorcerer."

Avoiding looking directly at Morgana Uther returned to his throne. "Camelot was locked down within minutes of the attack; if the assassin is indeed not a sorcerer then he will still be hiding within the walls. A search must be conducted of every building." The king's eyes locked on Jarrod. "If you are correct then he will be found, if not." Uther shrugged and Jarrod found it hard to breath.

The dungeon suddenly sounded like a better alternative.

The Alley outside Gaius' Chamber, Camelot

"What was that?" said Sir Gallfoy and half drew his sword. From a street over they could hear a commotion and the knights hesitated. Guarding this door was important but safe-guarding Camelot was their duty. Any hesitation was overcome when a scream pierced the air and they immediately ran towards the noise.

Seconds later a figure clad in black slipped down the wall and checked the alley. Finding it clear he cracked open the door and peered inside, luckily the knight sitting by the door was asleep if the soft snores were anything to go by. Stepping silently inside the figure surveyed the large chamber.

Only the knight and a figure lying on the table were visible. The only light came from a lamp across by the window and it was not bright enough to see more than a few shapes, certainly not enough to tell if the body on the table was Prince Arthur.

Even if it wasn't the assassin knew he must be on the right track. Three knights would not be guarding a servant's quarters. Payment was only forthcoming on success and if that meant a little extra danger then all the better. Henry, for that was the name he used these days, crept closer to the table. The dagger came out of its scabbard with barely a sound and he raised it above the prone figure.

Darkness allowed no features apart from a mop of hair to show. It had to be Arthur though, who else would be in the physicians' rooms? While hiding throughout the day Henry had heard wild stories ranging from the King actually being dead to Arthur being alive and unharmed. The assassin knew he had hit Arthur squarely in the chest, he'd seen the bolt enter and the prince go down. He may survive that wound but not this one.

The door across the room suddenly burst open and light poured forth. The figure standing in the doorway yelled out "Merlin!" and Henry blanched, recognising the voice as Arthur. He stared down to see the Prince's manservant staring up at him, not a drop of fear in his eyes even though a dagger was hanging over him.

Gaius' Chambers, Camelot

Merlin thrust out his fist and it connected with the assassin's kidney. The pain made the man draw away, giving Merlin the chance to reach out and grab one of Gaius' instruments, luckily the long bladed scalpel. As the man turned back and tried to stab him Merlin blocked the blade and counter-thrust, he missed but managed another deflection from the assassin. This happened half-a-dozen times in quick succession and Merlin was a little amazed he could do such a thing.

His arm was quickly tiring and his chest was extremely painful so he tried to draw on his magic to throw the man across the room. The power was there but it felt like water slipping through his fingers, he just couldn't focus it. The man knocked his scalpel away and thrust down, Merlin braced himself for more pain when there was a dull crack like thunder and the man went flying across the room in a cloud of purple light. He hit the wall and crumpled down just as the knight by the door jumped in with his sword.

It had all happened in a matter of moments but one thing Merlin knew for sure – that burst of magic had not been his.

He looked across at Arthur who stood, his hand still outstretched with a look of amazement and horror on his features.

More importantly Merlin saw the flash of gold fade from Arthur's eyes.

"That is impossible," whispered Merlin. Yet he knew it for what it was.

Arthur was a sorcerer.

Tbc…


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Tread the Precipice  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur  
**Rating:** MA  
**Warning:** Dark themes, blood and medieval medical procedures, humour, snark and finally slash.  
**Summary:** Merlin took Arthur's place as a victim of the assassin's bolt. Fate is fickle however and what does this mean for the one destined to be the once and future King? Sequel to Gaze on Oblivion.

Chapter 4

Gaius' Chambers, Camelot

Arthur ran to Merlin's side, fear lighting his eyes – not something Merlin was used to seeing in the Prince.

"How did I -?"

"How did you -?"

They spoke over each other and grinned at the absurdity of it. Any further discussion was halted as there was a banging on the main door.

"Open this door, in the name of the King!"

"Shit."

"Crap."

"Language Merlin."

"Speak for yourself my _lord_."

Arthur gave Merlin an exasperated look, one which he hoped also conveyed how pleased he was that Merlin that up and talking. Not that he would voice such relief.

"Honestly Merlin, can't you be quiet or are you incapable of even one ounce of self-preservation?"

Merlin narrowed his eyes as the door was thumped on yet again. "I was hoping that perhaps, as a famous warrior since you yourself have boasted as such to a legion of admiring… admirers, that the great and mighty Arthur of Camelot would come up with some successful strategy instead of berating his poor manservant, who might I add saved said Arthur not that long ago."

Across the room Sir Bedivere snorted a laugh while keeping a sword on the downed assassin. Arthur spared him a glare before putting his finger to Merlin's mouth. "By the gods Merlin, even with one lung you can't shut-up – I have a plan but you really need to be-very-quiet, in fact _deathly_ quiet, if you get my meaning."

Behind the finger Merlin raised his eyebrows in sudden comprehension and grinned mischievously before lying back down as Arthur threw the blanket over his head.

"Idiot," muttered Arthur as he turned to face the door.

"Prat," answered the 'corpse'.

Beneath the blanket Merlin could see the sudden extra light as the main door opened and multiple footsteps entered the room.

"Inform the king," a voice called. More footsteps, leaving if Merlin was correct and then the door closed. Another lamp was lit and Merlin could see a lot clearer through the blanket's weaving.

The only extra person was a tall man, dressed in Camelot livery who walked over to face Arthur.

"Guardsman Jarrod my Lord, I was tracking this man when a body was found a street over, turned out to be a pig wrapped in a cloak." He moved over to the assassin's body and nodded at Sir Bedivere who withdrew his sword. Jarrod put his hand on the assassin's neck for a few seconds, much as Merlin had seen Gaius do countless times. "He's alive, but barely."

Jarrod returned to Arthur but glanced surreptitiously at Merlin. He was unlike any guardsman Merlin had met. For starters he appeared quite healthy and his height spoke of an upbringing free of starvation, not to mention his face was darkly handsome and reminded Merlin a little of Lancelot. His demeanour was strange as well, while showing Arthur the proper respect he seemed more interested in getting things done than worrying about etiquette. If Merlin were honest he saw a little of himself in Guardsman Jarrod.

"A decoy placed so close to where the original target was could not have been a coincidence so I came straight over – I do apologise for our entrance." Merlin knew that Jarrod was addressing Arthur but his eyes stayed on Merlin and were regarding him strangely. As a precaution Merlin held his breath, but found that painful so kept his breathing shallow.

"That's quite alright Guardsman," Arthur said with a small cough. "It would seem the matter was taken care of in any event." He didn't elaborate and Jarrod just raised an eyebrow, the man obviously wanted to know more but knew better than to question the crown prince. Arthur suddenly frowned. "Did you just refer to me as 'the target'?"

"Well you certainly weren't a bystander," answered Jarrod before catching himself and giving an apologetic grin. "Sorry my Lord, in Rome we tried to avoid using titles during an investigation – made our lines of inquiry less… political."

Arthur dismissed his earlier comment with a wave, its not as if after Merlin he wasn't used to people speaking out of turn in front of him. "_You've_ been to Rome?" he asked instead and with a little bit of disbelief.

Merlin wanted to hiss, knowing that Arthur would not understand that his tone was insulting to Jarrod.

"Um, yes sire," said Jarrod with a quick smile and Merlin almost groaned, he was convinced this Guardsman knew exactly what was going on.

Arthur looked over at Merlin. "I am afraid we were all too late, the assassin did indeed strike again, he managed to kill my manservant." He said it so flippantly that Merlin almost snorted. "I will truly mourn him, worst servant in the history of Albion, with a simple mind that could never grasp even the basics of etiquette, but his foolish ways always made me laugh." At this Arthur grabbed Merlin's foot and squeezed rather painfully. "Still, he is easily replaced and the murderer is found, so all's well in the end eh?"

"Of course my lord," answered Jarrod, who when Arthur wasn't facing him looked straight at Merlin and rolled his eyes. It took all of Merlin's will power to not laugh.

Jarrod then coughed nervously when Arthur turned back to him but spoke clearly. "None-the-less, may I offer my condolences sire, I will let the King know of your servant's demise and let me assure you that I will handle the interrogation of the prisoner personally."

"Thank you Guardsman, I would appreciate you informing me of the outcome. The assassin may have missed tonight but whoever sent him may try again – and I fear he may strike a more valuable _target_ next time."

Jarrod smiled at the prince's jibe and opened the door so that others could enter and remove the assassin. Once they were all gone and Bedivere had checked the door Merlin threw off the blanket, rather painfully, and glared at Arthur.

"Simple? Foolish? _Easily_ replaced?"

Arthur held his heart in mock surprise. "It lives! The gods have a sense of humour after-all."

"My lord," said Bedivere softly. "I will wait outside, when the area is clear we can move."

"Thank you Bedivere," replied Arthur without turning.

What Arthur did not notice but what confused Merlin was Bedivere had been looking straight at Merlin when he said lord.

His confusion was interrupted as soon as the door closed and Arthur was suddenly upon him, encasing him in the hardest hug he had ever endured. Since he was naked from the waist up he could feel the texture of Arthur's clothes and his hard muscle beneath. Powerful biceps closed around his shoulders and his face was thrust into the small of Arthur's neck. For the first time in a long time he felt protected.

He allowed himself to relax and enjoy the closeness, something he had desired but not truly thought possible – of course Arthur was only hugging him, nothing more. Arthur released him and Merlin was about to lament the loss when lips were suddenly pressed against his own.

It took him some moments to respond, but he finally did by opening his mouth and letting Arthur's tongue slide inside. The kiss deepened and it was like some spark had ignited something between them. The hairs on Merlin's arms stood up straight and a warm glow infused him, Arthur too by the feel of it. The prince sucked on Merlin's lower lip before pulling back to look straight into Merlin's eyes.

"Okay," squeaked Merlin. "You're forgiven."

Tbc…


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Tread the Precipice  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur  
**Rating:** MA  
**Warning:** Dark themes, blood and medieval medical procedures.  
**Summary:** Merlin took Arthur's place as a victim of the assassin's bolt. Fate is fickle however and what does this mean for the one destined to be the once and future King? Sequel to Gaze on Oblivion.

Chapter 5

Merlin went to kiss Arthur again but the prince held him back and shook his head.

"Don't start what we don't have time to finish, besides you're hardly up for-."

"You'd be surprised what I can do," smiled Merlin, his eyes flashing gold.

Arthur stared at him and shook his head again, this time more at himself. "How is it that I never noticed?"

"Self-obsessed probably."

"Cheeky."

"Its what I do."

"We have to get you out of here," said Arthur growing serious.

Shrugging on a shirt Merlin winced only slightly and marvelled that he could move at all. He was lucky to be alive let alone able to move. He'd like to think that Gaius was just that good but something else was going on if he could heal this fast. Speaking of things going on.

"We also have to talk about what you did – sorcery in the royal household will not be easy to hide."

Arthur was rifling through some of Gaius' bottles, for what Merlin had no idea. "You know better than most I guess." There was recrimination in his voice.

"Arthur… I should have told you long ago – there was just never a good time."

Hands closed on his shoulders and he was facing Arthur's eyes again. "Communication's not our strong point Merlin, I've wanted to kiss you since we met but never had the courage."

He really knew he shouldn't but Merlin snorted. "I'm sorry, did Prince Arthur just admit to being afraid of something."

"Your injuries have addled your brain, I said no such thing."

"Prove it, kiss me again."

He did, stronger and longer this time and it left Merlin a little light headed. So much so that he only came back to reality when Arthur was holding up a vial full of something that looked like blood.

"My father will come to check on things himself - and he will not fall for you hiding under a sheet."

"What do you suggest then _my prince_," said Merlin with a grin.

Holding back a laugh Arthur shrugged. "That depends, just how good a sorcerer are you Merlin?"

Gaius' Chambers, Camelot

Arthur was once again covered in blood and looked at Uther with tears in his eyes. "He thought it was me on the table, and got in a deep cut before being stopped… Merlin died in my arms father, saving my life yet again." He hid his face, not daring to look at Uther in the eyes, afraid his father would spot the lie.

"And the assassin?" Uther spoke as he turned away from his grieving son.

Sir Bedivere stepped forward. "Alive sire, he has been taken to the dungeons for questioning." Out of the King's vision the knight looked to Arthur who nodded slightly and Sir Bedivere left the room with a distinct limp, his red cloak billowing in the draft.

Uther looked back at Arthur questioningly. Arthur understood. "Bedivere would never boast sire but he was the one who caught the assassin, it was not without injury I'm afraid."

As they now the only ones left Uther sighed and walked over to his son, placing a hand on his shoulder. Arthur was still standing by the table with a hand on the blood soaked sheet covering the prone body.

"Arthur, please believe that I take no pleasure in your servant's death."

"He was more than my servant father, Merlin was my friend," said Arthur quickly.

"I am sure it felt that way… but as prince many will pretend to be a friend – when really it is treachery they plan. Your manservant was hiding his magic from you, would a friend do such a thing?"

"He would if knowing brought me to conflict with my own father."

Uther took a step back. "Arthur, you know the law – no matter the boy's intentions he was deceiving you to save only himself."

Arthur breathed slowly and brought up his bloodied hand. "It would seem he failed."

Uther shook his head and said nothing, instead he pulled the sheet back and stared at Merlin's face. Pulling the cloth down further revealed a chest half covered in Gaius' bandages for the original wound and a neat open cut near his heart. "Say your goodbyes son, the body will be burnt immediately."

Arthur blanched. "Father! Merlin deserves better than that; he should be taken back to his mother-."

"No!" thundered Uther. "You don't know sorcerers like I do, they are only safe when turned to ash."

Arthur swallowed and looked from Merlin to Uther. "You would have executed him anyway, wouldn't you?"

"It doesn't matter now," Uther said softly.

"Answer me," demanded Arthur.

Uther's face grew dark. "Don't forget to whom you speak."

"Of that you need not fear," spat Arthur.

"Clean yourself up and act like a prince of Camelot," ordered Uther as he marched to the door. "I did not raise a son who acts like a spoiled brat and throws a tantrum because he lost a playmate – accept his death and move on."

"He had a name father, and you have not said it once."

Uther sneered. "A name that will be long forgotten when ours will endure."

By the North Gate, Camelot

The guard nodded at Sir Bedivere as the knight walked towards the gate. It was unusual that he was on foot but then questioning a noble without good cause would earn a quick trip to the stocks. Especially when said knight was limping and probably in poor spirits.

Watching the knight exit and disappear into the darkness the guard jumped when a minute later he heard horses approaching and made way for yet more knights. Half-a-dozen of them and all wore the red of Camelot, more specifically the dragon crest with sword and cudgel that designated them cohorts of Prince Arthur. The guard bowed his head respectfully but kept an eye on them. It was a little strange that given the recent events, of which no-one could provide a clear story, that the knights would be leaving without their prince.

Still, he was here to question people entering and prevent an assassin leaving – not hold up the higher echelons of Camelot society. His respectful demeanour almost cracked when for a second he thought he saw a familiar figure amongst their number…

Sir Bedivere.

Once they had passed the guard nodded at his partner and moved off. He needed to speak with a superior immediately, if he was wrong he would be rebuffed and possibly sent to the stocks – but if he was right and said nothing? If that happened the stocks would be a welcome alternative.

The Great Court, Camelot

Uther watched the pyre catch alight and looked sideways at his son. Arthur had indeed cleaned himself up and stood wearing his proper court regalia, red jacket with dragon pendent and black breeches. The prince's crown sat on his head above an impassive face.

Nodding to himself Uther regretted being hard on his son, but knew it necessary. How many so called friends had he sent to the fire? Too many, especially in the first few months of the purge and countless more since. Terrible but necessary, such was the lot of being king.

The body, wrapped in a white sheet was thrown on the burning stack and quickly caught alight. Uther had accompanied the body himself, a niggling thought at the back of his mind told him to beware of treachery. Only once the fire enveloped the white bundle did he allow himself to breath.

It was over.

Arthur would hate him for awhile and there would be troublesome talk of easing the magic laws – but it would all die down soon enough and life would return to some semblance of normality.

It wouldn't hurt to at least show Arthur some empathy though. Uther moved over to his son and put an arm around his shoulders – in the harsh light of the fire it was hard to see Arthur's face but it seemed like a smile had graced his features. Perhaps, thought Uther, forgiveness would not be too long in coming.

"Arthur I - ." He stopped himself as a gust of smoke blew their way and entered his nostrils. Uther had been present at enough burnings to know the distinct tang of burning human flesh – and had hosted enough banquets to know roasting pig.

His fist curled in Arthur's jacket and his lips curled in anger but Uther resisted saying anything – now was not the time, not in front of the court. Arthur looked to him and saw his expression and whatever smile of victory Arthur had been wearing faded away as he realised Uther knew.

Uther let a cold smile grace his own face as Arthur's grew more uncomfortable.

It seems the treachery was closer than he had thought.

One Mile from North Gate, outside Camelot

Merlin let the glammer fade and slumped down to the ground. Walking this far had drained him and if the dampness on his shirt meant anything, re-opened some of Gaius' stitches. He pulled the red cloak close to try and keep out the cold evening air and risked a look back at the city. From here it was just a few sparkling lights in the upper battlements, the rest seemed in mourning although Merlin could not guess what for.

Their prince was alive and the evil sorcerer dead. He chuckled at the thought of that. Him an evil sorcerer? Merlin had enough trouble picturing himself as a sorcerer, let alone evil. Sure he had magic and had managed a few, admittedly awesome, spells but being evil would be too hard. All that planning and plotting, and he had never managed the cackling laughter – he had tried but failed miserbly.

As a particularly icy wind buffeted him he considered lighting a fire but the energy needed to gather wood and then light it – maybe he should lie down and sleep a little first. They had little time to organise this before Uther had arrived, as Arthur guessed he would. Although never having actually tried a glammer, let alone two and one at a great distance the desperate need seemed to have spurred his powers, as it usually did.

The concern for Merlin had been if he still could use magic, since at first it seemed Arthur may have stolen it. Steal might not be accurate but something had happened when they switched places; Arthur could conjure magic and Merlin could hold an assassin at bay with one arm and a chest wound – both of these things impossible before the 'great body swap' as Merlin was now referring to it inside his head.

There had also been no time for he and Arthur to discuss it, except for some puzzled glances and that was when they weren't groping each other. Smiling at the memory Merlin hoped they would not be separated for too long. They'd started something that definitely needed finishing.

Galloping horses interrupted his thoughts and he looked up to see half-a-dozen dark figures come to a stop above him. One dismounted immediately and strode to Merlin, seeing it was Bedivere Merlin went to return the cloak but the knight stayed his hand and instead brought out another thicker one and threw it around Merlin's shoulders.

"Easy Merlin, we'll take it from here." Bedivere patted his shoulder and turned to the other knights. "Build a fire, we have a long ride and it is a cold evening – we have an hour, maybe more if they fall for the false tracks we just left."

In a very short time a small bundle of wood was ready as they formed a semi-circle around it. It must have rained earlier for Gallfoy had trouble getting a spark to catch. Merlin sighed and raised his hand – its not as if anyone here did not now know he had magic, he clicked his fingers and the wood burst into flames.

Gallfoy cursed and jumped back, turning to glare at Merlin who stopped smirking, worried that maybe he had misjudged Arthur's knights as they all put their hands to swords. Sure they had agreed to escort Merlin to safety but he'd never inquired as to their exact loyalties where magic was concerned.

"I'm sorry," Merlin muttered. "I just thought, I mean it seemed you needed a little help and I knew I could…" His voice trailed off as six sets of eyes stared blankly at him.

Before one bark of laughter shot out and then they were all smiling and laughing, except for Merlin who scowled even more.

"You know," he said loudly. "I could turn you all into toads."

That just made them laugh louder and Gallfoy, who had sat next to him nudged Merlin lightly. "For some of us that would be an improvement my Lor- Merlin," he corrected himself but did not seem to notice his mistake.

Merlin grinned to show his gratitude at their good humour but inside his thoughts were turning yet again. Before yesterday the knights were friendly to him, but only as much as nobility to servant could be. Perhaps as Arthur's manservant he did receive a little more, not respect exactly, but tolerance. Now it was as if they had embraced him as one of their own, even elevated him.

It couldn't just be the magic, these men had been brought up to fear and hate such things. A nasty possibility began to worm its way into his head and Merlin stopped smiling. If what he was considering were even partly true then Arthur was not as safe in Camelot as they had thought.

Arthur had magic and Merlin had the protection of Camelot's knights.

The world was turning upside down.

Tbc…


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Tread the Precipice  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur  
**Rating:** MA  
**Warning:** Dark themes, blood and medieval medical procedures.  
**Summary:** Merlin took Arthur's place as a victim of the assassin's bolt. Fate is fickle however and what does this mean for the one destined to be the once and future King? Sequel to Gaze on Oblivion.

Chapter 6

Dungeons, Camelot

The splash of freezing water brought him back to consciousness and the man known as Henry spluttered and tested his restraints. They were tight and allowed little movement. He was seated at least with a table in front – it could have been the rack above a bed of hot coals. That is what he would be doing, but then these Camelot folk were probably too weak to use traditional torture techniques.

A movement at the side of his vision revealed a rather tall man dressed in black with a glint of dagger and short sword at his belt.

Weapons, that would be useful when he escaped.

"I'd ask for a name but you'd lie and I don't care what your whore of a mother called you."

Henry laughed. His mother had been a whore and she was long dead at his own hand so such words would do little to provoke him.

"Ah!" continued the man as he sat across from Henry. "Like that is it?" he motioned to another guard who put two goblets on the table.

"Water?" He proffered a goblet to Henry's lips, and he drank but spat it at his interrogator almost immediately.

This time it was the drenched man who laughed as he flicked his vest. "Hence the black, it will also cover the blood when we get to that."

As Henry watched the man brought up a bundle and unwrapped it slowly. Inside was an array of sharp and pointed instruments, some flat and some curved – all looked decidedly uncomfortable.

The man smiled coldly. "I was trained by the best inquisitors in Rome, they were able to draw confessions from the most formidable of foes. My mentors were so feared even the holy father himself would avoid crossing their path" He held up a tiny spiralled metal hook and grinned again. "You my friend will be no challenge."

Henry winced as he imagined what it could be used for. His interrogator had not even asked a question yet.

Maybe they were good at torture after all.

One Level Up, Dungeons, Camelot

Stripped of jacket and regalia Arthur glared at his father through the bars.

"I am your son and you treat me like a common criminal."

Uther slammed the bars. "Hardly common but by the gods you act like one. You think you could deceive me with a simple parlour trick? That servant of yours is alive and until you admit your betrayal and tell me his location you will remain here."

Arthur sat down on the cold stone floor and leaned against the wall. "Then I'd best get comfortable." He gave Uther his best smile and was pleased to see the anger build.

"You-are-unbelievable Arthur, what have I done to deserve treachery from my own flesh and blood?"

Uther started pacing up and down in front of the cell, his gloved hands waving about in frustration. "Ever since _Merlin_ came here you have been impossible. You argue with me all the time, disagree with my decisions and disobey me time and time again… and now this!"

Arthur chuckled and let his head fall against the wall. "You _finally_ said his name, I think you're growing soft father."

Uther stopped and glared at Arthur for almost a minute before talking. "I will find him and he will be tried and executed as a sorcerer."

Arthur opened his hands in exasperation. "Hence our deceit – I was not about to let him burn."

"So arrogant," muttered Uther. "Yet you have no idea. Morgana had almost convinced me to spare Merlin, for sure he would have been exiled but I was considering letting him live – he did after all save the life of my son."

Arthur's mouth dropped open. "But? Surely then we can work this out?"

Walking closer to the bars the shadows fell across Uther's face and gave him an otherworldly appearance. "No Arthur, now I can see how he would infect you. He has wiled his way into your affections, no doubt your bed and you, weak and spineless, you would be led to betray your very own family – for that he will die." Uther stepped back as Arthur jumped up and rattled the bars in anger. "And sending your knights to protect him was a good idea… but they are not all _your_ knights." Uther smiled without it reaching his eyes. "I don't need to know where they are because Merlin will be dead before the sun rises, and his body… his real body this time, will be dragged through the streets as a lesson to all." Uther paused for the coups de gras. "And to follow that your knights will be flogged for aiding a sorcerer."

He walked away as Arthur pressed his face against the bars and shouted in anger and frustration.

Deep beneath the dungeons the dragon heard his shouts and growled in annoyance; something had changed and the elemental creature could not work out what. He needed to speak with Merlin but the boy was beyond his detection.

Perhaps it was time to finally open a dialogue with Arthur – it was inevitable in any event.

Three hours north of Camelot

Merlin winced at another jolt from the horse and sighed in resignation. If they stopped death was certain if Uther found them, so a little pain now was better than burning later. One of Gaius' concoctions would have been good but he and Arthur had not dared to ask his help – he would be in a difficult situation as it were and Merlin hoped he did not get sent to the block.

Something tingled at the back of his mind; as if someone had brushed his neck from the inside. Something magical was searching for him.

The dragon?

No, he knew the touch of that creature, this was different – more intimate and yet uncertain.

"Arthur!" he hissed and suddenly stopped to turn and look behind them.

It saved his life.

A black shape flew by his face, he felt the wind of it and it took a moment to register.

Some of the knights were faster to notice the danger.

"Form up!" shouted Sir Bedivere. The group reacted instantly and while they turned to face the forest Merlin found himself in the middle of their huddle.

They were protecting him with their lives and for Merlin this was ridiculous.

More arrows shots past and Merlin tried to discern where they were coming from – but the night was too dark.

Not for long.

With a few whispered words a great ball of light shot into the sky and they could see their foe. About a dozen mounted archers had flanked them, there were no foot-soldiers.

Beside him Gallfoy grunted as an arrow lodged in his shoulder, even in pain the man turned to shield Merlin as more arrows flew in.

"Draw swords," said Bedivere calmly and the knights obeyed. Merlin knew they would charge the archers and probably succeed – but not without loss.

What would Arthur do?

He wouldn't think, thought Merlin, he would simply act.

Spurring his horse Merlin trotted forth to put himself between the archers and his protectors, before any knights could interfere Merlin put an arm out and whispered a hasty incantation.

Time slowed down and the arrows travelled like snails through the air. The knights, not affected by Merlin's spell, did not hesitate and charged past Merlin to take down their attackers. Gallfoy and Haddon stayed to flank Merlin.

"Thank you," whispered Merlin as he turned to Gallfoy. With shock he saw the man swing his sword at him.

Frozen to the spot Merlin could not even think of something to stop him, all he could consider was that the world was getting more and more crazy.

Dungeons, Camelot

Smoothing down his tunic Jarrod passed the bundle to a waiting guard.

"Please return that to Lady Morgana's handmaiden, tell her I didn't need its use after all." At the puzzled look Jarrod shook his head. "Best not to know my friend, women have more instruments of torture in one bedchamber than in the entire of Camelot's dungeons."

The guard left and Jarrod made his way slowly along the cells. The information from Henry, as the man had claimed his name was, was sparse but not entirely useless – in the right hands. Uther would expect a report but first Jarrod had to check on a few things. In his ponderings he barely noticed the guards he passed but was surprised to come to a cell where the crown prince sat inside the dimly lit room.

"Sire?"

Arthur looked up and gave a grunt. "Guardsman Jarrod, here to implement the king's justice?"

"What? I'm just… oh!" Looking down at his outfit Jarrod realised what Arthur must be thinking. The tight black material with leather panels probably did give the wrong impression – well it had given the right impression for Henry and that combined with Gwen's manicure set had meant he never needed to draw a drop of blood. The threat had proven more effective than the follow-through.

"Forgive me my Lord, this was for someone else."

"Lucky them," smirked Arthur with what Jarrod could only describe as a leer. Had he just been flirted with by the son of the king?

Crouching and lowering his voice Jarrod tried to change the subject. "I know not why you are here my lord, but I have grave news concerning your assassin."

Arthur shook his head in confusion. "Here I am, under guard in probably the worst smelling cell and not only do you still treat me with respect but you seem to think I would care why yet another person wanted me dead – anyone else would of at least taken the chance to mock me." He gave a hollow laugh. "Yesterday I was the second most powerful man in the kingdom, today I rot… and the most ridiculous thing is I am here by choice."

This time Jarrod frowned. "My lord, the measure of a man is not how far he can fall, but how soon he picks himself back up." He then smiled, revealing to Arthur that he knew his situation better than most. "Our beliefs can get us killed but they can never destroy us – the fiercest warrior in all Camelot could no doubt escape his cell if he so wished, but what would it achieve?"

Arthur gave him a quizzical look.

"I am talking of redemption sire – if you need a reason I have found one."

"Go on," said Arthur softly, his interest was raised.

"There is only one man who could put you here," explained Jarrod. "And I am giving you the chance to save his life, if you wish it."

Arthur sighed. Truth was he could have blown apart the bars with Merlin's magic, or was it his now? He should have, Merlin and his knights were in danger. What stopped him was duty, and trust. He had to trust that his knights could protect both themselves and Merlin – even if one of them was Uther's. his duty was to Camelot – if the crown prince escaped and was to be hunted it could spark a civil war.

He hated his father right now but Uther's death, while Arthur was proclaimed a criminal, would be even more catastrophic. Rival kingdoms would most likely invade to take advantage of the power vacuum. Hundreds, maybe even thousands, would die.

It was never easy.

"Tell me" he ordered, and Jarrod did.

Three hours north of Camelot

The sword came swinging down and Merlin felt the fear clench at every organ in his body, freezing him in place. He saw Gallfoy's face, twisted in anger and strangely, surprise. The reason for this was soon revealed as the blade missed Merlin and swept by, to connect loudly with another blade. This one would have decapitated Merlin and was wielded by Sir Haddon.

Freed from his momentary lapse of non-action Merlin leaned back and tugged on the reigns. His steed, being a warhorse, responded as if there were not two knights locked in a fierce duel over his back. Without having to worry about Merlin in the way Gallfoy doubled his efforts, forcing Haddon to defend. Even though wounded it was Gallfoy the better warrior and without Merlin having to help Haddon was sliced across the neck and he fell from the horse.

Merlin leapt down to him and studied the wound, it was bleeding freely and too deep to stop without Gaius' instruments, but he plugged it with his hand anyway. The man had been trying to kill him but Merlin felt a pang of regret – prior to this he had always been a man of honour and one of Arthur's closest friends. Gallfoy joined them and held a hand tightly over Merlin's to increase the pressure, he glanced at Merlin and screwed his face up in sorrow.

"Damnable fool," muttered Gallfoy. "He has always been guilty of dropping his guard, I was aiming at his shoulder but the horse jumped." He shook his head and looked into Haddon's eyes, which were widening now as the man realised his death was close at hand. "Why Joseph? Why did you do this?"

Haddon gave a smile, it seemed not one of anger or remorse but acceptance. "I am glad it was you my friend," his voice was weak but clear, the wound had not penetrated his windpipe. "Killing Merlin," he continued. "It seemed wrong to me but Uther's policies are clear – and he is my king."

"Oh Joseph," whispered Gallfoy, stroking the other man's temple with his other hand. "Have you forgotten that blind obedience breeds only stupidity – you should have trusted Arthur, you should have trusted us."

The dying man smiled again, a cheeky glint in them this time. "For the honour of my family I did this, but I always trusted you to stop me." His eyes rolled to Merlin. "You are a very dangerous young man, part of me hoped to succeed but the other…" he shrugged, gave a last smile and died.

Gallfoy bowed his head and Merlin watched a tear run down his face. Together they removed their hands from Haddon's neck and Merlin placed his clean hand on Gallfoy's shoulder, infusing it with a touch of magic to help with his pain from the arrow – for the pain of losing his friend Merlin could do nothing.

"I'm sorry," he said anyway. "What did he mean – he trusted you to stop him?"

Gallfoy wiped the tears away and straightened, looking down at the arrow in his shoulder as if surprised it was there. "He hesitated, had he not I would not have been able to stop his blow – you would be dead Merlin."

Biting his lip Merlin pondered this and thought it better to say nothing. Gallfoy had saved his life, but at the expense of his best friend – he would not want to discuss this anytime soon. The other knights had finished off the attackers and Bedivere walked over slowly, also placing a hand on Gallfoy's shoulder but he looked at Merlin while spoke.

"This at least explains how they tracked us, Haddon must have left a trail. He was a good man, he fought by my side last winter and took an axe to the thigh – I would have thought that of us all he was most loyal to Arthur."

"And he probably still was," growled Merlin, having had enough. "It was me he tried to kill, not Arthur!" He walked over to his saddle bags and removed some cloth and water. "I am just a servant, a peasant and a sorcerer – there was no need for him to protect me and betray his king." He lay out the cloth and tore open Gallfoy's shirt, revealing the imbedded arrow-head. Washing it with the water he continued his argument to the strangely silent knights. "Arthur may have asked you to escort me from Camelot, and I appreciate your help, but it is ridiculous for you to put your lives at risk for mine." Pressing around the shaft he surmised it was not barbed and gripped the arrow firmly. "Hold him!"

Bedivere held Gallfoy and the injured knight gritted his teeth, knowing what was coming. The arrow came out cleanly but the wound bled quicker than Merlin had expected. "This is going to hurt I'm afraid," he said and with a whispered word the wound smoked then cauterised without the help of instruments. To Gallfoy's credit a muttered curse was all he did to indicate the pain.

Cleaning the rest of Gallfoy's now closed wound and shoulder Merlin took a chance to look at the surrounding knights. They looked to him, not in fear and certainly not in anger – their expressions were something he had never seen directed from nobles to himself.

Expectation.

They were waiting for orders, from him. He had seen them look to Arthur in exactly the same way and snorted at the absurdity of it.

"This is insane, you cannot believe this is okay?" He didn't direct the comment at anyone in particular but it was Bedivere who answered.

"I think I answer for us all when I say it is definitely unusual – but somehow right. You may be called a servant, and have humble beginnings… but there is something about you requires our…" he struggled for the correct wording. "Dedication. Arthur is our lord and master, but you Merlin – I cannot help thinking there is no Arthur without his Merlin."

Several knights muttered their agreement and Merlin took a minute to clean his hands and walk to where the bodies of the archers had fallen. They were men of Camelot, soldiers who had also died because of him. Is this what Arthur felt every time he went to battle – the guilt but also the knowledge that events were as they had to be. People would die, both because of him and at his own hands – yet how many more would die if he did nothing?

Turning back to the waiting knights Merlin shifted and stood tall, he usually bent a little around nobles since he was taller and they hated it – normally. In the moonlight his shadow fell across the body of Sir Haddon, a grim reminder of what awaited them all if they failed.

"Uther is still your King," he announced. "I do not want that changed, I am not suggesting a civil war… but Arthur may be in danger – he needs our help and running away will achieve nothing."

He bent down and collected Haddon's sword, holding it up to glint in the moonlight there was something he knew he was missing about all this. He with the knights of Camelot, Arthur with magic and undefended in the city – events were unfolding that were twisting fate in different directions. If Merlin was right getting back to Camelot would be a lot harder than leaving it – and that meant they would need help.

Putting the sword through his belt he jumped onto the horse one knight held for him and swung his mount around to face the others. "If you wish to follow me then know that everything I do is for Arthur – all else is secondary, even my life and yours." He was met with tight nods, agreement among equals.

"Then we ride," he said loudly. "There are a few people I need to see; enemies of the crown, magic folk and most unsavoury sorts." He smiled as a few knights chuckled. "Yes, I know the irony – let's go."

Tbc…


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** Tread the Precipice  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur  
**Rating:** MA  
**Warning:** Dark themes, blood and medieval medical procedures.  
**Summary:** Merlin took Arthur's place as a victim of the assassin's bolt. Fate is fickle however and what does this mean for the one destined to be the once and future King? Sequel to Gaze on Oblivion.

Chapter 7

Camelot

Gaius slammed the door shut behind him and leaned against it, breathing deeply before daring to take a step away, as if whatever was behind the door might come barging out.

It may well do.

Morgana studied the old man and sighed before making her presence known and sliding forth from the shadows. The split second of his eyes widening was the only surprise Gaius showed and Morgana was once again impressed at his ability to adapt quickly to a changed situation.

"Uther is still unwell Gaius?" she queried softly and the old man smiled quickly before giving a small bow of the head.

"His mood is somewhat dark today, tis all my lady."

She chuckled and slowly circled him. "I would say dark is the only mood he has these days. Perhaps someone needs remind Uther that a King must sometimes put aside personal feelings for the Kingdom."

His mouth pulled up on one side with a smile that spoke of years of dealing with Uther Pendragon. "My head will be of more use exactly where it is Morgana – but you of course are welcome to try, I think he may _only_ send you to the dungeons."

"Mm." Morgana pressed a finger to her lips as if in contemplation. "I think in this circumstance I will follow your lead… if only?"

"I know," interrupted Gaius and put a hand to her arm. "But it has been almost two months, without word – Arthur could be in Jerusalem for all we know."

"No," answered Morgana, her voice full of conviction that only a seer could manage. "He is close, I feel it – and the dreams…" She glanced about while pulling Gaius further from the King's chambers. "I have never had such conflicting images Gaius. I see blood and tears, but at the same time joy and victory – faces of those I love in pain, but somehow it is as if I am the reason for that pain." She shook her head, the earlier playful demeanour draining away. "I cannot think why but in these dreams it is I who betray them?"

Gaius pursed his lips and lifted that damned eyebrow. He knew exactly whom she meant by 'them'. "You cannot blame yourself for something that has not happened, and will in all probability never happen – you have never been able to control your visions Morgana… of everyone you could never hurt Arthur, or Merlin for that matter."

Morgana's eyes darkened for a moment, some hidden memory coming to the surface. Gaius was not to know but betrayal was not that hard when it all came down to it. Did she want to believe she could cause them pain? No. Was there doubt that in a moment of fury she might?

Yes.

Her eyes darted to the heavy doors, and in her mind at the man within. She loved Arthur, but she also loved Uther.

Uther had not pushed her away, if anything they had grown closer in Arthur's absence. Since Arthur's escape from the dungeon there had been no word, not even a smuggled letter or token to let her know he lived.

"If you knew anything you would tell, wouldn't you Gaius?" she whispered.

There was only the slightest hesitation. "Of course my lady."

But it was enough.

The Hills outside Camelot

For the second time that day Gaius found himself taken by surprise. At least this time it was half-expected, and somewhat welcome. The hooded person dressed in peasant clothes dropped from the tree and regarded Gaius from the depths of the darkened and rough cloth.

"You know Arthur," said Gaius crisply without turning. "Uther may have had me followed; his trust in me has been somewhat weakened of late."

A snort answered him and Arthur threw back the hood. His hair had grown out and he sported a short beard, or more precisely a week's growth that the Prince somehow kept from turning into a beard. "Hardly, the following I mean. I have been trained in tracking since birth you know, and would know if you had company."

Digging out a particularly stubborn clump of Widowsleaf Gaius stuffed it in his hip bag and finally turned to Arthur, enveloping the young man in a brief hug before fixing him with a piercing gaze. "You still risk too much, perhaps in another month Uther will be more forgiving but at the moment I wouldn't put it past him to lock you away like some Princess in a tower."

Arthur's mouth twitched in a self-depreciating smile. "Princess?"

"Well," answered Gaius, flicking Arthur's locks that now brushed his neckline. "You have the hair for it, best be careful or the surrounding Kingdoms will send their best and finest to woo you."

This elicited a laugh and Arthur seemed to relax and sat, forcing Gaius to sit with him. From this hill they could just see the tip of Camelot's highest rampart – it was as close as Arthur was willing to come, and about as far as Gaius could travel without suspicion. "What puts you in such a good mood old man?"

Gaius harrumphed loudly. "Certainly not your father and now even Morgana seems intent to make me watch every shadow."

"Morgana?" Arthur appeared to want to say more but shook his head. "Never mind, I asked about your cheery mood and you failed to answer – don't think I haven't noticed such word play… honestly between you and Merlin-," Arthur stopped as he saw Gaius' expression change at mention of Merlin.

"You've heard from him haven't you?"

"Mm… what? Merlin is an enemy of the crown – I was lucky to keep my head for providing him shelter, do you think I would risk communication with the scoundrel?"

Arthur pursed his lips in frustration, then allowed a friendly smile to play across his features. "I would believe you except for the fact you consort with me – another identified enemy of the crown… and the way you make the term _scoundrel_ sound like 'beloved son'."

Gaius nodded in defeat. "Well there is that." He allowed Arthur's brow to crease in the beginnings of anger before clapping the Prince on the shoulder. "A pretty young lass from some village I'm sure I've forgotten the name of dropped me a letter – it had no names but told me the writer was fine and in good company."

"Do you have it – the letter?"

Gaius managed to look shocked. "Surely it would be treason to even hold it, burning it seemed the wisest course."

"What! Gaius, how could you?" Arthur frowned as Gaius held up a folded parchment.

"Of course," the old man chuckled. "The best course would have been to never take Merlin in to my house in the first place."

Snatching the letter Arthur unfolded it and scanned the writing. There were indeed no names mentioned, simply a few sentences saying that he was in good health, was travelling a lot and hoped that he and his companions would be able to be more forthcoming in the near-future. Grunting in appreciation at Merlin's ability to say so much without revealing places or names Arthur returned the letter but Gaius shook his head.

"Keep it; it's quite possible he wanted you to have it anyway."

Gaius did not fail to notice that Arthur did not argue and carefully folded the letter before slipping it under his shirt.

"So my Knights are looking after him, that's good. Merlin would probably run into Uther's patrols at least twice a day without their help."

Gaius did not answer but instead the smile slipped.

"What else do you know?" asked Arthur almost immediately.

Sighing Gaius waved his hand across the countryside. "Rumours, tales of skirmishes with bandits and the odd sighting in taverns – they all indicate that Merlin _leads_ your Knights, not the other way around."

Unable to contain his disbelief Arthur burst into laughter, the tears streaming down his cheeks. "Merlin?" He almost choked. "The most useless servant in the history of the world… most likely to trip over his own shadow and… and." He shook his head as memories obviously overwhelmed him. "I guess I just don't want to imagine him getting into more trouble."

"Especially if you're not there by his side," suggested Gaius.

"Yes damnit!" Arthur growled but there was no fire in his words and Gaius put an arm around him, a little shocked at how thin he had become.

"Arthur, you need to keep the faith – Merlin must have some plan or he wouldn't be leading your Knights across the land."

"Yes, but it should be me making those plans, and strategising… but I'm lucky if I can organise my next day – something's happened Gaius, it's as if," he hesitated and slumped. "Part of me is missing, I have magic now – not that I know how to use it, but when I try and remember how I used to be… its like I'm thinking of a stranger."

Gaius nodded sadly. "I think… no, I am fairly certain that in saving you Merlin twisted fate – and such things are dangerous and unpredictable. You are meant to be the next King, but that seems unlikely now; and Merlin, strange as it may seem… he was always meant to be by _your_ side. Instead he is in charge of your finest warriors and does not follow anyone's lead but his own." Gaius prodded Arthur with his finger. "Your fates are intertwined, always have been… but not like this. Things have to be set right."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Yes, that much is obvious, but how?"

"Ah," said Gaius. "That much I have not been able to fathom."

"Maybe," suggested Arthur. "All we need do is switch back; now that neither of us is wounded there would be little risk."

"Perhaps, but when magic is involved the matter is rarely so simple – and there is still your father to consider."

"Yes," growled Arthur. "My father. You know that Lord Hynd is conspiring against him."

"Jarrod told me as much," said Gaius in response.

"Good man, Jarrod. He's the reason I escaped, he found out the assassin was working for Hynd – the rest was easy to work out. Without an heir Uther has to appoint a successor, and Hynd is the most powerful peer next to Uther."

"But," argued Gaius. "You lived; perhaps Hynd will not try again."

Arthur snorted. "Hardly, the man is too ambitious and if not for his rich lands and manpower Uther would have had him imprisoned long ago. No, I believe he will use the current situation to his advantage – I just don't know how… yet."

"Jarrod is still investigating then?"

Arthur nodded. "He has the King's ear, and can be where I cannot. I on the other hand can move about in Hynd's lands without being noticed – few there know how the crown-prince looks, and I have changed my appearance somewhat."

"I noticed... the weight-loss is on purpose then?"

Arthur gave a non-committal shrug and Gaius frowned, but decided in the end not to push the issue.

"Hynd builds an army," said Arthur, also avoiding speaking about his gauntness. "Not too large but enough to be a concern – if he were to initiate a civil war, others may side with him if Uther has no heir – or if said heir is denounced as a criminal."

"Uther has given orders for your capture Arthur, but he has stopped short of calling you an enemy – no matter what you think of him right now he still loves you, perhaps if you sent word, combined with news of Hynd?"

Shaking his head Arthur stood. "Not yet, there must be a way to stop Hynd, placate my father and fix this thing with me and Merlin."

Gaius looked up at the prince. "And what would that be?"

Arthur looked perplexed. "I never thought I'd say this but I think it's all up to Merlin."

"Mn," muttered Gaius, which matched Arthur's thoughts exactly.

Lake's End, two days ride from Camelot 

The young warrior faced the last three of his opponents; their colleagues lay dead by his feet. They were confident but wary, he had dispatched the others quickly but not without taking wounds. The one on his arm was the worst, the warm trickle of blood had already reached his hand and made grip on the sword awkward.

"C'mon you cowards," he muttered and lowered his stance. The closest he would take at the knee, the second an upper-cut to the throat… the third he had not figured yet. As expected the first approached and the young warrior shifted his grip, at the very last moment he twisted and spun, taking the other by surprise he did indeed manage to slice his leg. The upper-cut to the second failed however as his arm lost its strength – too much blood loss.

He dropped, hoping to avoid the swing of his opponent. As he did the other grunted and fell back, an arrow lodged in his throat; at the same instant there was the sound of approaching hooves. Turning the warrior saw a black stallion approaching – apparently riderless. He cursed as it seemed he would be trampled today instead of run-through with a sword. At the very last moment the horse turned and an arm stretched out, from a body hanging out from the horse, attached only by a pair of legs to the saddle.

Without wondering who or how the young warrior grabbed the offered hand and swung up and behind him, the rider sitting upright and flinging out a hand at the remaining bandits – there was a flash and two screams that ended abruptly.

"How did you - ?" he spoke to a shock of black hair that turned to become a face he knew all too well. "Merlin?"

Merlin smiled and brought the horse to a canter before pulling up so he could properly speak face-to-face.

"Hi there Lancelot; up to no good again then?"

"Um?" Lancelot had trouble speaking as half-a-dozen Knights drew up beside them – these faces too he recognised, even if he didn't know all the names.

"That's the last of them sir, I've already dispatched a rider to let the villagers know they can return."

"Excellent Bedivere, now I expect we can make camp – I for one am famished." Merlin wrinkled his nose. "First we'd better bury those bodies though, I may have overdone the fire and they'll stink the whole forest."

Lancelot looked back over and saw two smoking remains which had been his bandits. He slipped off the horse and glared back up at Merlin, about to admonish him for using magic in front of Arthur's knights, before the stupidity of that hit him. Obviously the knights knew, and had absolutely no problem with it if their nonchalance attitude was anything to go by.

"Merlin… how, and why?"

Throwing a leg over to face Lancelot there was a wicked gleam in Merlin's eyes. "All in good time, first – let's look to those wounds." He jumped down and stared down at Lancelot, his eyes glowed and there was a tightening around Lancelot's larger cuts. "That should do for now," Merlin clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Might want to clean them soon though, I doubt those blades were clean."

Lancelot could barely form a coherent thought. This was not the Merlin he had befriended in Camelot. This man stood tall and stared him down. He spoke to knights as their lord and there was no hesitation in any of his actions. Even his clothes spoke of major change. He wore midnight blue cloth, interspaced with chain-mail and black-leather. The stitching was very fine and would have been expensive enough for a prince, let alone the servant of one. Instead of the Camelot emblem he wore an embroidered goblet on the upper-left of his chest, all in silver thread. He had two short-swords strapped to his back and a variety of daggers and blades around his belt and even peeking out of one boot.

"Merlin you…"

"Pretty fancy huh?" grinned Merlin. "Seems every time we save a village they insist on presenting us with gifts – we said no the fist few times before realising they took affront at our refusal. Of course," he winked at Lancelot. "I make sure a few bags of coin find there way to several households before we leave – we're not mercenaries after all."

"What?" shouted one knight; Lancelot was fairly certain his name was Sir Gallfoy. "I thought you were kidding 'bout that, spent it on wine and whores instead."

Lancelot turned to Merlin, expecting the young man to turn red or get angry. Instead Merlin laughed loudest and shook his finger at Gallfoy. "With that pretty face I doubt you needs pay for it – and we all know half a cup of wine is enough to have you dancing the tables."

The rest of the knights laughed and Lancelot sighed; the after-effects of battle were hitting him, and combined with this all new Merlin the world was starting to spin. He had to put some perspective on this, find out exactly what was going on. The best question he could ask was obvious.

"So where's Arthur."

The smile faded from Merlin's features. "Ah," answered the young man. "Now you see, this is where we need to talk." His arm snaked across to pull Lancelot close. "Things are a little complicated, let's walk shall we."

Lancelot found himself obeying without thinking about it; which in itself should have told him all he needed to know… things were bad and about to get a lot worse.

Tbc…


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** Tread the Precipice  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warning:** Boys being boys, some burning  
**Summary:** Merlin took Arthur's place as a victim of the assassin's bolt. Fate is fickle however and what does this mean for the one destined to be the once and future King? Sequel to Gaze on Oblivion.  
**Disclaimer: **The Arthurian Legend belongs to the people of the world; the interpretation of characters borrowed for this story belong to the television series 'Merlin'.

Chapter 8

Jarrod watched carefully and tried not to sweat as Morgana Le Fay poured him some mulled wine and passed it across. Having drinks with the lady, alone – was enough to incur the King's wrath and that was something Jarrod was eager to avoid, especially given what he had already done for Arthur. Freeing the Prince had been easy enough but covering up his role in it was a little more difficult. Never-the-less he had thought himself successful, until now.

"I find myself starved of company with Arthur gone, of course I would never admit that to him Jarrod," she said simply, staring at him over the goblet.

"Ah," Jarrod answered, hoping no answer would suffice. The wine was spiced in the manner he liked, something only the tavern owner in main street should know – Morgana had studied him and this made her either very careful, or dangerous… perhaps both.

"Merlin too," she continued. "He always made me laugh, and I knew there was more to him than just an inept servant."

"More you say?"

She laughed quietly but never broke eye contact. "Merlin is destined for great things – all he needs do is survive being around Arthur."

This made Jarrod smile. "I would think it the other way my Lady."

"Mn." Her expression said she had considered this. "Perhaps a little of both then."

She was surely a study in high court style. Dark and beautiful yet unafraid to show her intelligence; other of her rank would twitter away the day and never involve themselves in important matters. It was no secret that Morgana held the King's ear, and also had eyes and ears throughout Camelot. The Peers of the realm dismissed her as irrelevant, a possible marriage to further their privilege but not a one, Jarrod was sure, knew that Morgana's true worth would lay in her mind and not her body. All Jarrod had to find out for the here and now was if Morgana was an ally. She had known enough to invite him here where they could speak in private – depending on what she said would reveal her intentions, or more likely – what she didn't say.

"I have only recently arrived in Camelot my Lady, long enough to attain a position in the guard and meet the Prince but I would think it too soon to comment further."

"Well said Guardsman, but then you act as if I have asked a question, and as yet… I have not."

Her eyes drilled into Jarrod and he felt sweat break out on his forehead. He had faced inquisitors who had drawn less fear than this woman.

"Arthur and Merlin should be back here, Uther would forgive Arthur and perhaps even Merlin if only father and son would talk – I think you agree… no!" she prevented him saying anything. "That was not a question. It may be that you had a hand in Arthur's escape, perhaps you may know where he is… and I want him to know something."

"I…" Jarrod hesitated, her expression let him know he needed to be very careful how he answered. "As a royal guard my loyalty, as always, is to the crown. If I knew where the Prince was it would surely be my duty to tell the King."

Morgana smiled, it was both intoxicating and sent a shiver down Jarrod's spine. Dangerous did not begin to describe this woman yet he was captivated none-the-less. Where romance was concerned he had always been tempted with the more dangerous liaisons – and she was drawing him in like none before.

"And if I knew you to be involved it would be only honourable for me to inform Uther." She used the King's name so casually, letting Jarrod know that if it came to it – Jarrod's word would count for nothing if he betrayed her.

"It is just as well then my Lady, that we each know nothing of import – King Uther can rest easy that there is no insurrection here."

This time her laugh was higher, it echoed in the room and made something in Jarrod's chest tighten – he hoped it was the beginning of love and not a sense of impending doom.

"I knew I would like you Jarrod." Morgana poured more wine and Jarrod eagerly accepted. "Of course, if by chance word could get to Arthur I would want him to know this," she hesitated and for the first time Jarrod saw doubt in her eyes. It faded when Jarrod boldly took one of her hands and nodded, saying nothing but letting her know everything.

"I have had a vision," she said confidently and squeezed back. "And it is something Arthur must hear."

"I can only -," Jarrod paused as a commotion made itself known outside. He cocked his head, at first thinking it was simply a fallen tray but then the clang of metal on metal was clear, followed by a strangled cry. In an instant he was at the door and peered out, through the crack he saw a guardsman on the floor, a puddle of blood growing underneath him. Standing over him was a man in the colours of Sir Hynd, three more joined him and one spied Jarrod looking. Jarrod slammed the door and slid the bolt home.

"They have attacked sooner than I expected," he muttered and quickly gathered his jacket and weapons from Morgana's side table.

"What is it?" she demanded, not a hint of fear in her voice but just concern. His opinion of her was raised.

"Sir Hynd's soldiers are in the city, he will be after the crown."

"Traitorous swine," swore Morgana and opened a cabinet, pulling out some garments and a sword and dagger. "Uther will have him gutted."

Turning away while she changed Jarrod tried not to grin; dangerous as this day was becoming he could not help but feel that it might be worth it. "The King may be in some trouble, with the knights halved and the city guard mostly out searching for Arthur Hynd has chosen an excellent time to attack."

Morgana walked into his field of vision. She was now dressed in breeches and a long overcoat, sword strapped to her side and the dagger nowhere to be seen – his face turned red as possibilities abounded. There had been no discussion but there was no need – they were in this together.

"Alone we can do little but Arthur will not allow Uther to come to harm – can you get me to him?" Morgana asked, tying her hair back.

"Once outside the city," he answered without giving too much away. He was beginning to trust her but there were limits – it wasn't just his head on the block.

Morgana grinned at his deflection and walked to the opposite wall, a tug on the lantern opened a section and she waved a hand. "We'll get to that but first we need to see a friend."

Nothing else was said as they moved quickly down the hidden stairs. At first Jarrod was not alarmed, hidden passages were common and necessary. After a while though his brow furrowed in consternation – if his calculations were correct they had gone down further than the lower ramparts. How could they leave the city if the were too far under the castle?

They finally entered a hallway that seemed a little more used and Morgana grabbed a fresh lantern and moved over to another set of steps that disappeared even further into the darkness, which meant a long way down. At his expression she smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"Tell me guardsman, how much elemental lore did they teach in Rome?"

"Elemental?" He had no idea what she was talking about.

Morgana leaned forward and her expression went serious. Her next word made ice flow though his veins.

"Dragons."

Deathbite Marshes

Shivering only slightly as he removed shirt and breeches Arthur rinsed them in the clean running water of the small creek and considered his undergarments. He had not encountered a soul in these lands so modesty was not really an issue but there was the sneaking suspicion he was being watched, so the smalls remained on. Only once he had the wet clothes hanging on some branches did he consider what to do next. He should be hunting, a rabbit or perhaps fish – but his appetite had been gone for weeks. Arthur wished he knew why – he wasn't sick and didn't seem to suffer from the lack of food, except for losing quite a bit of weight. His strength remained and his sleep was sound. It was, like so many things recently, a mystery.

Fetching his sword he spent the time sharpening the edge, it was a duty normally left to Merlin and Arthur lost himself in it. Even when it had been Merlin doing it Arthur could watch him for hours, the look of concentration and determination to get the edge perfect. Every now and then Merlin's tongue would poke out, just slightly, and wet his lips. He'd wipe his hair back and stretch some taut muscles – all while Arthur watched. At this memory Arthur sniggered, how had he not realised his… affection for Merlin earlier? Quite obviously the feeling was returned but it nagged at Arthur that Merlin had not found him yet. Surely the warlock could locate him. For Arthur's part he felt sure he could point in the direction Merlin was, just not how far. He would have gone too but needed to be both close enough to Camelot to be there when needed but not close enough to be caught by patrols.

Staring at his clothes, the sword forgotten Arthur could see they would not be dry for hours. It was too damp for a fire. He swore to himself and glared harder at the shirt and breeches. "Just be bloody dry already." There was whispered inside his head and it was like a new connection was made, something like feeling a muscle lock into place. His vision turned a golden red for a single moment and in a flash the shirt steamed and Arthur knew it was dry. Testing it for sure it was probably the driest thing in a dozen leagues, so crisp were the cuffs.

"Neat trick, can you do the pants?"

Arthur leapt up at the voice, reaching for a sword that was out of reach and realising he was mostly naked while holding only a shirt. He saw who had spoken and relaxed, but only by a little.

"Lancelot?"

"My Lord," nodded the dark haired man. For himself he was fully dressed, his clothing was simple but fit perfectly and the sword was sheathed, no ill intent was evident in his posture.

Arthur decided he had no reason to be bashful around Lancelot and stared at the pants, in a flash they too were dry and he grinned to himself, take that Merlin – he could do magic too. Laughter from Lancelot made him frown.

"I'm sorry," murmured Lancelot. "But for a moment your smile looked just like Merlin."

"Mm umm," nodded Arthur and slipped on the shirt but left it unbuttoned, the cool air was starting to bite but it was not yet too cold. "I have to assume you've seen him recently and this is no chance meeting."

"He would have come in person but matters overrode that possibility," apologised Lancelot. Strangely he really did seem sorry and Arthur tilted his head in question. Did Lancelot know… did the whole bloody world know?

Leaving the pants for the moment Arthur finally remembered his manners and strode over, giving his arm to Lancelot who did not hesitate to take it. "It is good to see a friendly face – did Merlin tell you everything?"

Lancelot hesitated then nodded slowly. His whole body language cried out that he wanted to speak but something was holding him back. Had Arthur been feeling more himself he would have demanded to know, or maybe even threatened Lancelot – but he didn't, and instead stepped back and gestured to a log. "Come, sit – you must be exhausted."

"Thank you sire, it has been a long trip – and tracking you was not easy."

"Well," snorted Arthur as he joined Lancelot on the log, "I do have some skill in survival you know."

"So does Merlin it seems," said Lancelot, a hand ghosting up to hold a charm sitting at his neckline. Arthur could not remember him wearing it last they met but it had been awhile and Lancelot had probably travelled quite a bit since then. "He suspects he is being watched my lord and sent me – the two of you together may have been too tempting a target."

"I agree," nodded Arthur and allowed himself to relax just a little bit. Knowing Lancelot could find him had put him on guard, wondering the same as Merlin had – was he being watched? If he was they would have pounced by now, his weapons out of reach and both of them seated.

"So Lancelot, you have a message… for… me," his voice trailed off as Arthur looked at the other man. The charm was now glowing a soft red and Lancelot's eyes glowed gold for a moment before the man's hand came up and gently caressed his cheek.

"I have missed you Arthur."

Arthur eyes went wide as he felt the flow of magic emanating from Lancelot. His body had not changed but his smile and eyes belonged to someone else.

"Merlin?"

Lancelot leaned forward until his lips were almost to Arthur's. "Yes, my body remains far away but Lancelot has leant me his so we could meet."

It was whispered and although the words came from Lancelot's throat they had the slight lilt that was Merlin's provincial accent.

"Is this like what you did to me?" whispered Arthur. "Because that didn't end so well."

"You're alive aren't you," Lancelot as Merlin said rather arrogantly. As Arthur looked into the other's eyes it was becoming easier to think of him as Merlin. Lancelot's head moved further in and lips ghosted across his ear. "This is different, Lancelot is still here but… looking the other way – I don't know how to describe it better."

Arthur allowed his own hand to move to the other's chest but he felt, as he knew he would, not Merlin's lean musculature but the sleeker Lancelot's. "I can't," he said. "This is wrong, Lancelot would not-."

"He offered Arthur, its fine." Lancelot's face once more filled his vision, but the smirk was most definitely Merlin. "Close your eyes, they see too much and are easily fooled."

"Merlin that's ridiculous, seeing or not I know this isn't properly you."

"Close your eyes," Lancelot's eyes blazed a little red and Arthur felt himself obeying. May as well try it he thought. Without sight he relied on other senses. Lancelot still felt, well he still felt like Lancelot. Just to be sure Arthur snaked his hand around and rested it on Lancelot's hip – that was much the same as Merlin's and the illusion strengthened.

"Yes," smiled Merlin's voice. "That's it, touch me as Merlin, not as Lancelot. Hear me as Merlin… know me as Merlin."

Arthur breathed in and incredibly the scent was indeed of Merlin; earthy and of peaches. The heat he felt coming through Lancelot's clothes was Merlin's – his hand moved up and under the shirt. Snug as it was there was room and the skin was Merlin and yet not. Merlin was right, there was no way to describe it.

"Merlin," Arthur finally said with hunger and crushed his lips against the other man's. Merlin responded with a whimper and opened his lips, allowing Arthur to take the lead. The prince did and leaned into Merlin, using one hand to undo the shirt and the other to clasp his neck and lean him back. He nuzzled Merlin's neck and gently nipped his ear, eliciting an excited gasp. Merlin's hand splayed across his chest and circled one nipple, plucking it gently before sliding down Arthur's stomach to hover at his navel – there he waited as if building for the kill.

"Arthur," whispered Merlin between kisses. "Waited so long for this – not sure I can-."

"Just shut up Merlin," laughed Arthur, firmly keeping his eyes shut to maintain the illusion. He moved his own hand across the now naked chest and traced a line down the rippled abdomen – he knew that definitely wasn't Merlin but at this point it didn't matter. It was Merlin he was making love to, regardless what body he wore. Lancelot had worn breeches that separated easily and stretched to allow his hand inside – if Arthur were suspicious he would think that devious of him, as if he had known what Arthur and Merlin would do. Merlin gasped loudly as Arthur held his manhood and gently squeezed, bringing him to full hardness before slowly stroking him. His own cock was straining at his underclothes and Merlin felt him through them, his nimble fingers dancing across Arthur's tip and circling underneath. Gasping in ever quicker breaths Arthur knew what Merlin had been trying to say – they had both waited so long, this would not be a protracted coupling. Merlin was hot in his hand, heavy and with impressive girth – a small part of Arthur registered that he should not be impressed with Merlin so much as Lancelot… but only a small part.

His stroking quickened as he felt his own orgasm build. "Merlin I-."

"No talking, remember," snapped Merlin and covered his mouth with his own. His gasps were coming as quickly and as hotly as Arthur's and they breathed into each other. This heightened Arthur's senses and pushed him over the edge, spilling into his smallclothes as Merlin jerked him roughly – at the same moment Merlin's red hot seed sprayed into his hand and up onto the other man's stomach. Arthur kept going until Merlin stopped bucking then relaxed and fell into his shoulder, letting all the tension flow out of him. Merlin held him tightly, his arms embracing him as if afraid to let go. Opening his eyes Arthur looked into Merlin's eyes and saw Lancelot's face once more, flushed and glowing with sweat, red marks apparent where Arthur had gnawed on cheek and neck. His hair was in disarray and darker from the damp, it was longer than when they had first met but Lancelot had it tied back – at some point during their love making Arthur had released it, he just couldn't remember doing it.

It was… strange to say the least. Arthur knew, without a doubt, that it was Merlin he had just been with but it had still been Lancelot's body. His sweat, his hands and his – Arthur looked down and blushed as he spied Lancelot's manhood, still heavy in his hand. Sighing to himself, both elated at what had just happened yet also worried that something about this was still a little wrong, Arthur retied Lancelot's breeches and leaned back.

"Merlin… I suppose this wasn't the only reason – we have strategy to discuss."

The laugh coming from Lancelot was definitely Merlin. "Oh yes." His eyes twinkled with a familiar mischief and Arthur guessed what was about to happen as Merlin continued. "But Lancelot knows the plan so I'll let him tell you."

"Merlin no!" Arthur inwardly cursed as the charm's light faded as did Merlin from Lancelot's eyes. The man's eyes narrowed, then looked down at his undone shirt and his lips thinned noticeably. Ever briefly he glanced down at Arthur, still showing a slight erection through his thin piece of clothing, and his anger turned to a bemused smirk. He released Arthur and peered at his own hands and shook his head, a half smile still evident.

"I think," said Lancelot softly, as he buttoned up his shirt. "That I need not call you sire any more in private."

Tbc…


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** Tread the Precipice  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warning:** Boys being boys, some burning  
**Summary:** Merlin took Arthur's place as a victim of the assassin's bolt. Fate is fickle however and what does this mean for the one destined to be the once and future King? Sequel to Gaze on Oblivion.  
**Disclaimer: **The Arthurian Legend belongs to the people of the world; the interpretation of characters borrowed for this story belong to the television series 'Merlin'.

Chapter 9

Arthur turned to Lancelot beside him and swept his hand across the lake. "Merlin said I'd find it here… here being lots and lots of water, very very deep water – he does know I'm not a fish?"

"I think he knows that much about you," said Lancelot wryly. Their trip had been fast but Merlin's directions precise. Lancelot had not mentioned Merlin's use of his body and Arthur, aside from some inappropriate glancing, had spoken not a word of what happened. In many ways Lancelot felt this should make conversation between them awkward but instead they had travelled like old comrades, talk flowed easily and they joked and jostled one another in good spirits. Certainly Arthur's mood had flourished; apparently his sort-of reunion with Merlin had been all he needed to put him back on the path. Unfortunately their path led here with cryptic clues from Merlin.

"He told me you would know what to find, or that it would find you – nothing more except that it was vital."

"Bloody Merlin and his double-speak," muttered Arthur, but there was little anger in his words.

Lancelot watched as Arthur stared at the lake, breathed, and then kept looking.

"Nothing," he shrugged. "I feel only the cold and the-," his voice froze as did his hand as it swept to the lake's surface. The formerly tranquil lake was rippling, the water flowing back from something underneath.

"Oh," exclaimed both men as the water gushed up and twisted itself into a form.

Lancelot turned to Arthur. "Life is never dull around you two."

"No," answered Arthur, his eyes on the water nymph sliding across the lake towards them. "I guess we can pretty much always guarantee that."

Camelot

There was more pounding on the doors and Gaius felt annoyingly calm. Hynd's men were about to breach the throne room; he and Uther were alone and had only one sword between them – yet the prospect of death didn't seem that abhorrent. When faced with it from previously he hated the idea. Perhaps, he mused, being here with his oldest friend made it easier.

"I am sorry Gaius," said Uther softly, clamping a hand on his shoulder. "I should have got you out of here earlier; there was no need for us both to die."

Gaius harrumphed loudly and slapped Uther's shoulder. "Shut up." He smiled as Uther frowned at his abrupt tone. "You know," he said more easily. "I've wanted to say that for a very long time."

"Well," smiled Uther. "If anyone has earned the right it is you."

"I also have the right to tell you now is not the time to give up and think of dying." Gaius walked to the pounding door and laid his hand on the wood. "It may take hours for them to get through and surely the great Uther can think of something before then."

"Uther normally has knights by his side, soldiers – and his son," snapped Uther.

"Your son would be here if you weren't so pig-headed and those knights with him."

"Pig-headed!" Uther laughed instead of snarling. "If I didn't have to save my strength for slaughtering Hynd I would take your head off old man."

"Hah! Look who's talking." Gaius walked over to the benches along the wall and lifted the lid on one and then the other. "I seem to recall a few old blades being stored here – I suppose you may need help in this great slaughter you speak of."

"Yes… well," Uther hung his head then gave Gaius an open smile. "It would be a pleasure my friend, then afterwards we can speak about the etiquette of addressing a King."

Gaius just laughed. It was possible this was their last hours but somehow he had faith that Arthur and Merlin would find a way to save them. If not… well it wouldn't be his problem anymore. "Found it," he exclaimed and pulled out a slightly rusty half-moon axe.

"What!" chuckled Uther. "You can hardly lift it."

"I'll have you know," said Gaius, hefting the blade over his shoulder. "I am stronger than I look, and although it lacks the finesse of a scalpel I believe it will suffice."

"Has anyone ever told you how stubborn you are?"

Gaius simply grinned and stood by his friend's side. "Pot-Kettle-Black… sire."

Beneath Camelot

Jarrod had not said a word since Morgana had said the name dragon, he just let himself be led down the stairs and into the darkness.

A dragon

Morgana must be out of her mind. They passed several passages and went down yet more steps. They became more uneven and disused the lower they went but instead of getting colder the air became warm, and very dry. No sooner would sweat form on his back than the air sucked it away – Jarrod regretted not thinking to bring water sooner.

"Here," spoke Morgana softly and they walked out onto an overhang. The cavern before them took Jarrod's breath away and it was hard to believe they had gone this far underground, or that such a place existed under Camelot.

Placing the torch in the wall slot Morgana walked to the edge and spread her hands. "Show yourself so we may speak!"

Only silence answered her and Jarrod, after waiting a few moments, walked to where she was standing and put an arm to her elbow. "My lady, perhaps we should-."

"No," she said firmly and shook off his grip. "He is here, I know it – I can feel it."

Jarrod let his gaze sweep across the cavern. It was immense and gave him a small dose of vertigo, not enough to make him stumble but it was a close thing. A dragon, down here? But why? Uther hated magic and although he may use the dragon as his symbol Jarrod could not fathom why the King would keep one close by. Morgana was hoping for too much and Jarrod knew he should tell her as much and get them out of here while it was still possible.

A great rush of air combined with the snap of giant wings halted his movement and Jarrod froze as the dragon dropped into view, settling on a rocky outcrop opposite them and fixing his reptilian eyes upon them. Jarrod had spent years in Rome, he had travelled the continent and even made his way to Jerusalem. Due to where he had lived and those he had worked with everyone thought him a godly man, even with his browned skin, jet black eyes and long dark hair.

He _was_ a godly man but not of the Christ. The old blood in Jarrod's veins throbbed and he found himself dropping to his knees. This creature before him, Morgana called him Elemental but Jarrod had been raised knowing the Dragon as something else.

This was a God, real and alive and fantastic and powerful – not a mere man on a cross or some invisible being speaking through a burning plant.

He lowered his head and held his breath. If the Dragon wanted blood then he would give his freely. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Morgana looking at him strangely, she too was awed by the Dragon but had remained standing. Perhaps she claimed to know something of Dragons but Jarrod family was from an ancient line – he had spent years covering his past and in an instant all the things he had pushed away came tumbling back.

Hot breath, drier than the deserts of Arabia, ghosted across his face and Jarrod squeezed his eyes shut – knowing the Dragon was but a hand's breadth away. The great beast inhaled then chuckled deep in its throat.

"You are of the old world," its voice rumbled. "And initiated in the Ways."

"Aye Great One," spoke Jarrod, his eyes still shut and his voice wavering. "Through my mother's bloodline, as it should be, but from my father I am also a Child of the Sands… and your servant by both."

Morgana gasped and Jarrod dared say no more, not without his Lord commanding him.

"Then arise my Son," intoned the Dragon, laughter evident in his voice. "For we are truly family and too few of us remain to insist on ceremony."

With shaking knees Jarrod stood and finally opened his eyes. The Dragon's head was still close and his breath full of primordial heat. The eyes, so close, drilled into Jarrod's soul and he felt what the Dragon spoke – a connection.

"Your scent is familiar child, what was your mother's name?"

Jarrod hesitated, he had not spoken the name in many years and had become used to never mentioning his heritage in Camelot, where such a thing would be viewed as little better than magic. His eyes flicked to Morgana, who although seemed a little shocked, smiled her encouragement at him – she must have known it was her presence that made him pause.

"Ninianne my Lord, daughter of Viviane."

The Dragon smiled and such sadness filled his eyes that Jarrod felt his own heart hurt at her memory.

"Viviane… The Lady of the Lake," said the Dragon softly. "I knew her well my Son… and I grieved as did the land at her untimely death and then at the loss of her first-born daughter. I am pleased to see that Ninianne survived and, I hope, prospered."

"She did my Lord. Finding sanctuary with the Bedouin of Africa."

One of Morgana's eyebrows lifted in question at the names but Jarrod refused to look at her. It would be hard enough to explain later and almost impossible at the moment.

"And what is your name, son of Ninianne."

"I-." Jarrod spread his hands in supplication, terrified that he had been tempted to refuse the great Dragon's request. "By my Father's tongue I am _Ghalā__ḥ__ ad-Dīn Ayyūd_ but I have yet to earn my name back my Lord – many years ago I failed in my sacred duty; my shame allows only this man called Jarrod to stand before you."

"Mmm," the Dragon pondered. "Each of us must find our own redemption child – perhaps we can be travel companions on the path for a time."

"I would be honoured Great One," Jarrod whispered.

The Dragon turned to Morgana. "Another with old blood, but closed to it. You do not practice the Ways daughter?"

"I-," Morgana looked to Jarrod, her confidence had taken a hit he was sure. She had brought him here to impress, instead the Dragon had focused on Jarrod and revealed that his history was more complex than Morgana had supposed. Obviously she was embarrassed at her lack of knowledge. She was vain, yet this did not lessen her in Jarrod's eyes – vanity was not a sin in all faiths.

"The world is wrong Great Dragon, I feel it, I know it – a tipping point is approaching."

"Indeed it is daughter. The destiny of this land has long been entwined with the life that inhabits it. Together they prosper or die – if one unbalances the other then Chaos rules… and that is the beginning of the end."

"Yes," said Morgana, louder this time and she stepped forward. "I have seen it. Death and pain and a great darkness that seems never-ending. Is this what awaits us? Can we change the future?"

The Dragon laughed and curled one of its talons. "You are talented daughter but untrained. Death happens to us all – it is not something to shun and as for pain." He shrugged as much a Dragon could. "A mother endures pain bringing life into the world – would she deny that life to avoid the pain?"

Morgana visibly pondered these words and Jarrod shifted in discomfort, he could see she was determined to argue.

"And what of the darkness – is that not something to fear?"

"On the contrary," answered the Dragon. "We should always be wary of that which lay in shadow but never afraid – fear feeds the dark. This darkness that you see, it may only be that which _your_ mind cannot comprehend."

"Because I'm just a woman!" snapped Morgana.

"Because you're just human!" roared the Dragon and flapping his giant wings he alighted back to the pinnacle in the middle of the cavern. "This land is older than you can possibly imagine and it existed long before you and your kind stumbled its hills."

Morgana's eyes had gone wide in fear and Jarrod knew she may have overstepped.

"You would do well to respect that which is both before and after you," said the Dragon mildly. "Uther has done his job well; humans now believe they are the centre of existence when they should know how lonely and short the trail is that they lead."

"I am sorry," Morgana bowed her head. "It is true, though I dream of events to come it is as you said. I am untrained and sometimes unaware that there is more to this world than Camelot."

"Huh!" The Dragon snorted and shook its head, before a sympathetic smile graced its terrible head. "Do not be too contrite Daughter. You wear humility poorly and I liked it better with fire on your tongue."

Jarrod saw a smile tug at the corner of Morgana's mouth and he blanched. She had dared go up against a Dragon and while she had not a victory she had at least earned respect. Uther had indeed done his job well if Morgana was a product of his mentoring.

Morgana relaxed a little and held out a hand. "I need your help, if you would grant it. I believe Merlin has trounced fate and all may suffer unless it is undone."

The Dragon returned and nudged her hand with the tip of his mouth; for all intents and purposes a Dragon's kiss. "Prescience is both a gift and curse daughter – how we use it defines who we are."

Turning to Jarrod the dragon gave what could only be described a sad and tired smile. "Leave us my son, it is enough that one must be told."

Jarrod did not hesitate to move; Morgana may be bold enough to go up against a God – but he was not.

The Hills Surrounding Camelot

Sir Bedivere nodded at Merlin as his horse trotted up. "The people are ready my Lord."

"Mn." Merlin absently crackled a ball of energy in his hand. Of late it had become easier to use, and the power coursed through him like pure bliss. A small part of him realised the danger, and the allure – but this part was getting smaller and smaller. He no longer objected when the Knights called him Lord and somewhere along the way the common people had started called him Eminence; he barely even noticed thinking of the villagers as simply 'common people'. He had the power now, the ability to change things and not fear the repercussions. The aim was to put Uther back on throne – but with concessions.

Arthur cleared and back at his father's side.

All the Knights cleared of what Uther would see as treason.

And of course, magic restored to its rightful place.

"They know to just cause confusion – no actual fighting."

Bedivere nodded and signalled to the other knights who dismounted and started removing their armour and Camelot colours. Sneaking in would be hard enough, even during the riot that had been arranged – doing so in full livery would be near impossible.

"Did you find Guinevere? Getting into the castle will be easier if she can open the wicker gate."

Merlin looked to Bedivere when he didn't answer. The man had confusion written all over his face. "I asked as much was possible sire… none knew of this 'Guinevere'."

Wanting to snap at the man Merlin let it go. It would be just like Arthur's knights to not even remember a servants name, even it be Morgana's handmaiden. How the castle's people wouldn't know where she was made him worry but Gwen was a survivor – and there were other ways of getting in.

He dismounted himself and pulled on a dark cloak. Underneath he still wore the blue and black clothing but people recognising him would not be a problem.

Magic was more powerful than flesh and blood.

"Let's finish this then." The knights, as one, turned and gave Merlin a slight bow.

Merlin didn't even acknowledge them and walked towards Camelot, a staff in one hand to complete the illusion of a crippled old man.

For that is what the people would see.

The Lake

The sword glittered in the sun, water drops creating a rainbow of colours. Arthur hefted it and it felt so right in his hands.

Having delivered her gift the water nymph sunk back into the lake and the two men stood gazing at the blade.

"It is beautiful Arthur, truly amazing – and may I say it makes you look… I don't know… splendid."

Arthur stifled a laugh and sheathed the sword, gently shoving Lancelot with his other hand. "I know I can be irresistible but I thought it was only the Merlin in you that brought on such emotions."

Lancelot blushed and lowered his head. "I apologise, but if you could see yourself with that sword; you are truly a prince."

Unsure if he was being serious Arthur chose to laugh it off. "Smooth words Lancelot but save them for Guinevere; I know you have your eye on her."

"Guinevere?" Lancelot looked at Arthur in confusion and his next words made Arthur's blood run cold.

"I've never met anyone of that name."

Tbc…


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** Tread the Precipice  
**Pairing:** Merlin/Arthur  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warning:** Boys being boys, some burning  
**Summary:** Merlin took Arthur's place as a victim of the assassin's bolt. Fate is fickle however and what does this mean for the one destined to be the once and future King? Sequel to Gaze on Oblivion.  
**Disclaimer: **The Arthurian Legend belongs to the people of the world; the interpretation of characters borrowed for this story belong to the television series 'Merlin'.

Chapter 10

Hynd's men were numerous but basically untrained, and as such were little trouble for Merlin and the knights to fight through on their way to the throne room. If Merlin were a suspicious man, and he very much was these days, he would think it had been too easy.

His suspicions were correct.

Sir Bedivere, helping the other knights pushing the door, turned his face to Merlin. "It is locked from inside Eminence – if Hynd has the king in there Uther may be dead already."

"Perhaps," murmured the warlock and threw off the cloak, the vision of him being an old man faded with it. "Stand clear!" he ordered.

The knights hurried to obey but Bedivere had more to say. "Should we wait… for Arthur I mean?"

Hesitating Merlin considered it. His plan had called for both him and Arthur to arrive simultaneously, saving the day and proving to Uther that magic and prince were needed to defeat the realm's enemies. If he waited though, and Uther was killed then what use them arriving together?

He raised a hand, the magic crackled in his palm and the small hall was easily lit by the hues of power. In his mind he could already visualise the heavy doors splintered and destroyed, it took only a moment for reality to catch up with his mind. The knights, used to his displays of magic, raced inside to secure the room.

Merlin quickly followed.

_Outside Camelot_

The horse underneath them was flecked with sweat and it was making strangled noises. They had already rode the other mount to ground and had to share the last few leagues. The walls of Camelot loomed up ahead and Arthur's breath caught. Smoke billowed from a few windows in the west tower.

Were they too late?

They couldn't be. He could feel Merlin drawing him closer, so at least he lived.

As Lancelot swerved the horse to avoid a wagon Arthur almost lost his hold and gripped the other man tighter. Even with the speed and the noise he heard a deep chuckle from Lancelot and frowned. "You know," he yelled into Lancelot's ear. "As prince I should be leading."

All he got was more laughter and a mouthful of hair. Damn the man! They would most definitely be having a talk about how to treat royalty, even those you've been intimate with… and he would order a haircut – in fact he may make it a royal decree that all men must have their hair cut above the neckline. As more black stands flicked in his eyes Arthur growled; make that shaved!

_Camelot, west wing_

Swinging the long blade Jarrod was able to slice his opponent's jugular with the tip and jumped back to avoid being hit with the arterial spray. Blood did not bother him but it could affect his grip and they still had many enemies to kill. Across from him Morgana finished off her own with a stab to his kidneys then she slit the man's throat. Cleanly and neatly with a minimum of effort.

She was well taught and it seemed, experienced. He nodded at her and they continued along the hall even as servants raced to extinguish the fires they had inadvertently caused during the skirmish.

"We must get to the throne room," said Morgana determinedly. Jarrod did not argue and pushed his way forward as another of Hynd's men jumped from the shadows. As metal hit metal Jarrod spared a thought for what lay ahead.

So they might make it to Uther… but what then?

"Jarrod, something else," Morgana said as he stabbed the other man through the heart, Morgana barely spared the fallen man a glance. "The Dragon told me something about you – about your Grandmother… he told me who killed her and I thought you should know."

_Throne Room_

"Merlin?"

"Gaius," said Merlin, in a high pitched voice he had not used since this all began. It had not been that long but so much had happened it was strange to feel like a boy again, but Gaius had that effect on him.

"What in the gods are you doing?" demanded the old man.

"Um… rescuing you?"

That damned eyebrow stretched upward and Merlin gulped – how was he able to convey so much with a little bit of facial hair?

"They _had_ been unable to breach the doors Merlin."

Merlin decided not to mention how ridiculous Gaius looked holding an axe he could barely lift and instead turned to Uther, and to the amazement of everyone knelt. "My lord, I know you have no reason to trust me – but we _are_ here to save you and help defeat Lord Hynd."

Uther's expression was hard to read but his words were not. "Well I will try to contain my excitement."

Merlin looked up, Uther's tone was brash but then the man did not seem likely to take his head off. He tried smiling cheekily – it used to work before Uther knew he was a sorcerer. "Would it help if I mention that I've arranged for Arthur to be here too?"

Uther scoffed and shook his head. "Lovely, now Hynd can kill king and prince – thank you Merlin for making all this possible."

His sarcasm was a little wasted since he pulled Merlin to his feet and looked him up and down. Merlin could imagine what he was thinking. Instead of the cheaply dressed servant Merlin now wore expensive cloth, with the leather and weapons he either looked incredibly stupid or marvellously dangerous. Merlin liked to think the latter.

"Bedivere!" shouted the King, forgetting Merlin for the moment. "Secure the entry. No doubt Hynd has heard what's happened and will lead his finest to finish us off."

With fist to heart Bedivere started directing the knights.

"There's really no need," stated Merlin. "I can just turn them to dust."

"No!" growled Uther and squeezed Merlin's shoulder painfully. "You claim to follow the crown then obey me now… no magic – we will defeat Hynd with strength of arms."

Drawing his sword deftly Merlin grinned. "I can do that too."

Uther glanced from blade to Merlin and the corner of his mouth twitched, but he said nothing and pushed Merlin over to Gaius.

A sound of running feet announced the arrival of Hynd's men.

Then the fun began.

_Halls of Camelot_

As more people rushed past her Guinevere barely looked up. It wouldn't matter anyway. No-one could see her, no-one could touch her. She had tried, but it was if they purposely ignored her. She could touch things, and people – but they shrugged her off as if she was nothing but a cold breeze.

The only conclusion Gwen could reach was she must be dead.

This would not be so bad but she still felt hungry, thirsty and seemed to have to do all then things the living did. If this was the after-life then it would become very frustrating very quickly.

More running steps came towards her and Gwen turned into the wall – she hated being barged through like she was a ghost. This time the feet stopped and a hand touched her elbow.

"Gwen?"

She looked up. "Arthur." She could not prevent the smile that came. Of all the people to finally see her it was Arthur. "You wouldn't believe what's been happening and," she looked to see who was behind Arthur and almost yelped in a very unladylike manner. "Lancelot!"

In his turn Lancelot just stood there confused. He neither looked her way or responded to her words.

"Um, Arthur – who are you talking to?"

"Its Gwen," stated Arthur, swinging Guinevere around with an arm on her shoulder. Being starved of any human contact for so long Gwen leaned into the touch. Arthur was thinner, but still very strong and his hair was longer. She sighed, pushing all inappropriate thoughts deep down where they belonged, especially since Lancelot was here and he too made her think of inappropriate things.

"He can't see me Arthur, no-one can… until you that is."

"Oh, I was afraid of that." His face conveyed that he truly was and she touched his cheek without thinking.

"Its not your fault," she whispered.

"I think it is," he whispered back.

"Arthur," prompted Lancelot. "Enemies to kill, fathers to save – lovers to reunite with," he said with a leer, completely oblivious to Gwen's presence. "Being a proxy has been fun and all but I think you'd like the real thing sooner rather than later."

"Lancelot!" said Arthur sternly and blushed, looking to Gwen in apology. "I can explain, but right now."

"No," said Gwen quickly. "I really don't want to know – well I do, but just the details – oh… I mean." Her face reddened and Arthur had the grace to shrug and smile, letting her know it was okay. "Just go," she hissed playfully.

"Okay," he answered, in a very Merlin-like manner. "But stay safe – and we'll work this out, I promise."

As the two ran off Gwen leaned against the wall. Work this out – sure, but how?

_Throne Room_

The bolt shot at Uther and he saw it like time had slowed – he could not move quickly enough to avoid it. At the last instant a blade intervened and deflected the shot. Uther nodded a thanks at Merlin and they continued the fight.

He had to credit the boy – he really was very good.

Hynd's ranks had been severely depleted, they were many but Uther had battle trained knights on his side. The tide was definitely turning and Hynd, on the other side of the room, must be realising it. The man had obviously not expected the return of Arthur's knights and his face was a mixture of rage and frustration.

Uther had known the man his entire life. Ambitious, untrustworthy and entirely too impatient. If it were not for the man's wealth and admittedly excellent swordsmanship – he would have been dead or enslaved by now.

"What say you Uther!" shouted Hynd, his voice carrying over the battle. "Perhaps we should end this, a truce?"

Uther hesitated, it was probably a trick but then Uther did now have the advantage and his many years of battle and diplomacy had taught him that an enemy surrender was better than an enemy dead – usually.

"Agreed!" he yelled back. "Halt arms." It was a credit to Arthur's training of the knights that they obeyed almost instantly. Their blades remained pointed at Hynd's smaller troop however. "I suggest you drop your weapons," growled Uther.

Hynd nodded at his men and they reluctantly did so. Hynd kept his sword but Uther allowed this, the man _was_ royalty after-all.

Uther walked forward, still keeping a distance but close enough to see Hynd clearly. The man was slightly younger, heavier but fighting fit. It was unfortunate but Uther knew that the populace would probably have accepted him as a new king – reluctantly, but they would have done so. Life must go on.

"So," said Uther. "What would you do in my place?"

"In your place," sneered Hynd. "I would show no such mercy." His arm flicked out, it was not a crossbow or throwing knife but Uther still had no time to avoid whatever was being thrown. A body threw itself at him, a flash of blue and black and Uther found himself looking down into Merlin's eyes as they grew wide.

"What?" he demanded.

Merlin swallowed before stepping back. "Magic sire, I think it was a -." His body slumped and Uther went to catch him – he was beaten to it by Arthur however.

"Merlin," Arthur snapped. "What have you done now?" The two sunk to the floor and Uther wondered what Hynd had thrown. There was no blade or spike jutting out of Merlin's back – what had he protected Uther from?

The truce was broken though and he had little time to ponder as Hynd's men quickly regathered their weapons and the battle was joined. Even with superior numbers Uther knew that killing Hynd would be difficult, the man really was an excellent swordsman. The knights picked off Hynd's men until only he remained. Uther knew the knights would not hesitate to fight Hynd to the death, even it meant losing much of their own numbers. They were tired though, Uther could see that.

"Stand back!" shouted a new voice. Jarrod strode into the room, raising his slightly curved sword at Hynd in challenge. "Lord Hynd, years ago you took the life of Viviane, Lady of the Lake… and my grandmother." As the remaining knights cleared the way, recognising a blood debt – Jarrod took a stance. "Prepare to die for your crimes."

"Hah!" laughed Hynd, brandishing his own sword and picking up another. "I would be happy to slay any of that witch's blood – bring it on."

"Accepted," another voice intervened and Uther looked to see Lancelot also raise a blade beside Jarrod's. He looked sideways at Jarrod. "We share the same blood, I also am of Viviane's line – shall we finish him together brother."

Jarrod smiled, and anyone who saw it could not ignore the ferocity. "Let's."

The two men went on the attack, and Hynd, proving himself quite good was able to parry them at the same time. At any other time Uther may have called for only one to attack at a time – fair play and all that; but Hynd had tried to use magic – he wasn't going to follow rules so Uther left him to his fate.

The fight was over rather quickly. Hynd was good but Jarrod and Lancelot were better, and though they had just met it seemed their styles fitted perfectly together. Jarrod sliced Hynd's thigh, dropping the man to his knees. Lancelot ran him through while Hynd's swords were held over his head. As his arms dropped Jarrod pivoted and took his head clean off. The sound was surprisingly soft and Uther shrugged and smirked.

They'd saved the executioner a job.

Now that all fighting had stopped the sounds in the room died away – and all Uther heard was sword dropping to the floor. He turned and looked at his son.

No matter his thoughts on sorcerers he knew in his heart Merlin was different – for that and the fact he also was aware what the boy meant to his son Uther gasped in horror. For Merlin's fate was terrible.

_Throne Room, moments earlier_

Arthur followed Lancelot through the doorway, the darker haired man immediately going to assist the knights. Arthur however immediately sought out Merlin and could only see him in, strangely enough, Uther's arms. Merlin stepped back and Arthur thought maybe they had reached some kind of agreement – then his body slumped.

Whatever magic Arthur possessed he used now and raced forward before Merlin could fall and he hugged him one handed, shouting his name in anger and berating him just like old times. He could feel Merlin's breath on his neck, hot and rushed. Arthur stared into those eyes. So often he had imagined them of late and much as he had seen them in Lancelot's the real thing was so much better.

"Arthur," whispered Merlin through parched lips. Why were his lips parched, and why was he suddenly feeling so warm? "Our path was too narrow Arthur, not enough room for two."

"Sorry." Merlin's last word was barely a breath and his body convulsed. Arthur held him tighter and in doing so felt the body change… harden.

It started where Arthur had his arm around Merlin's back. It felt like a lump growing but rock hard, not flesh or blood. Merlin's face contorted in agony and he squeezed those beautiful eyes shut. Arms, also turning from flesh to stone, embraced Arthur and he fought not to cry out in anger or fear or hate or any of the emotions now racing through him.

They had found each other again – defeated their enemies. Merlin was not allowed to do this, not now. All Arthur managed to whisper was a sobbed, "No," as he saw the skin around Merlin's jaw ripple then petrify. The effect spread quickly until Merlin was a statue, even his eyes had turned the colour of granite.

His hand opened and the sword dropped away. With both arms he clasped Merlin and buried his head in the now rock hard neck. He had no words to say and so painful was the hole in his heart he could not even shout in anger. Arthur looked up into the eyes of his father and saw something for the first time.

Understanding.

Was this how Uther had felt when Igraine died giving birth to Arthur? Arthur felt the tears flow down his cheeks and splash on the now granite shoulder of Merlin. He saw a reflection of those tears in his father's eyes and he began to believe what Uther had meant all these years about sacrifice and pain.

He had never felt anything like this – and he wanted it to stop.

He would do anything to stop it.

The grating of metal on stone made Arthur look to the side. A flutter of cloth revealed Morgana lifting the sword, Excalibur the water nymph had called it. The blade flashed in the light coming from the high window. Morgana's face also held such empathy of loss. She walked around to face Arthur, standing behind Merlin who had Arthur locked in his petrified arms.

"Do you trust me Arthur?" she whispered, tears in her eyes. "Do you know that I love you and would do anything for you – even if it meant damning my soul?"

"Morgana," he managed to speak. "What do you -." Arthur gasped in shock and then pain as Morgana thrust the sword forward, its blade easily penetrating Merlin's stone back and going right through, piercing Arthur's chest just above his heart. This pain was physical and shocked Arthur out of his grief.

"Morgana?" he shouted in anger and disbelief. How could she do this?

Why?

He watched as she stepped back. As Uther grabbed her and threw her to the side – as Arthur's vision clouded he saw Jarrod save her from falling.

Uther grasped the hilt of Excalibur and pulled, the effort evident on his face and Arthur tensed, waiting for the blade to slip free of his flesh. It didn't. Uther could not even budge it.

Arthur's pulse pounded in his ears and he felt the warm wet feeling of blood flowing down his chest. He could not pull back, Merlin's arms held him in place – and not even Uther could remove the sword. This is how he would die.

A smile graced Arthur's face as he realised this wasn't so bad. He was with Merlin at least.

"Arthur!" shouted Morgana from across the room. Jarrod was menacing several knights who were trying to take Morgana and this gave her the chance to speak.

"The sword was made for the once and future king – for you Arthur. Only you can wield it and not fear it, Excalibur cannot harm its master."

In his periphery Arthur heard Gaius gasp and mutter, "Paradox, of course."

He had no time to listen to foolish mutters. A new strength seemed to hit him as the beam of sunlight caught both him, Excalibur and Merlin.

Merlin had always said, Arthur was to be king, with Merlin by his side. So it couldn't end here – Arthur simply would not allow it.

He was the Prince damn it – and no usurper wannabe like Hynd, with his fancy petrifying spells and hired assassins was going to kill his love. He would be king, and the greatest warrior ever – and no one was going to stop him from becoming that.

Reaching around Arthur grabbed the hilt – and pulled.

It hurt – by the gods it hurt. Liquid fire pulling through his veins, literally flowing along his arms and legs and in his heart. Golden fiery heat that felt like something sucking the life out of him.

He didn't waver though, and put more effort into it.

The sword nudged back an inch and he screamed in pain, blood sprayed out from his mouth – but he didn't stop.

The sun now hit them fully and that combined with whatever magic was held by Arthur, Merlin and sword combined to infuse all three with a golden glow. To anyone looking the brightness increased until all three seemed like one small sun, burning on the throne room floor.

Inch by painful inch Arthur pulled the blade out of his chest, and out of Merlin's back. As it exited his chest he felt the last of Merlin's magic leave with it, the pain increased to become excruciating ecstasy. Once free of the stone back of Merlin the wound remained glowing a white-gold, that quickly infused Arthur's wound as well and he felt the muscle and sinew knit together and mend almost instantly.

The glow seeped into Merlin and melted away the stone, returning the man to flesh and as Arthur watched those beautiful eyes returned to life.

"Idiot," murmured Arthur.

"Prat," whispered back Merlin.

"Love you," said Arthur more softly.

"Love you too."

_Camelot Marketplace_

"Did you hear? Arthur's back."

"Merlin too, and he's not the Prince's servant anymore."

"Really? What is he then?"

_Castle Laundry-house_

"An amnesty on magic, I swear it on my mother's grave – Uther announced it this morning."

"Really? If that's true I'll send word to my nephew – too many years he's been hiding."

"Well, apparently the Prince's new advisor is putting together some kind of magic academy – speak to him I would."

"The Prince has an advisor? Who?"

_Camelot Square_

"I swear that you are the worst advisor in the history of the world."

Merlin just snorted and pulled on his neckerchief. In his new position he did have to wear proper garments like a doublet and breeches that actually tucked into boots but he refused to throw away his trade mark scarf. Arthur was upset they had almost been late to today's presentations – as if they would start without them?

"Shut up," Merlin said simply and Arthur did. It may also have had something to do with Uther glaring at them both – a long sword in his hands.

The King brought the sword down and gently tapped both shoulders of the sleek dark haired man. Hair tied back for once Arthur noted (his royal decree had been vetoed by his advisor).

"Arise Sir Lancelot, Knight of Camelot."

Lancelot's grin could have lit up the square thought Arthur, and a hundred admiring women swooned as they imagined that smile for them. The young and dashing Lancelot had built up quite the following since returning to Camelot. This probably more than Lancelot's bravery, had made Uther bend the rules. Arthur turned and winked at Gwen, standing by their side. She had every reason to smile back at Lancelot – who was now once more very much aware of her existence.

The second man kneeled and Arthur grinned. He and Jarrod had become fast friends, much like Lancelot. Since Hynd's death Jarrod had asked to be called by his real name, Ghalāḥ ad-Dīn Ayyūd. Arthur still had trouble saying it properly and he wondered how Uther would manage – he heard Merlin's breath hold as well. Obviously he wasn't the only one wanting to see if the king would embarrass himself trying to say the name.

The King touched both shoulders and then glanced at Arthur, a smile at the corners of his mouth. Uther turned back to Jarrod.

"Arise Sir Galahad, Knight of Camelot."

The crowd cheered, Jarrod – now Galahad Arthur reminded himself, was also a people's favorite. They seemed to be collecting them and Arthur was becoming worried how they'd all fit in the Knight's meeting room. He was having an engineer coming in to redesign the room, although what could be done with a room that only held a big table he'd have to find out. The only thing he could imagine was cutting the corners off the table to fit more chairs - but anyone he mentioned it to politely nodded and changed the subject.

An elbow in his side made Arthur flinch and he turned to the other person by his side.

"What is it Morgana?"

"Just making sure you're paying attention," she smiled, but not at Arthur.

Arthur did not fail to notice that Galahad blushed when he looked Morgana's way and saw her smiling at him. Naturally Arthur had forgiven Morgana everything, even if he did eye off any sword in her vicinity.

Merlin had taken it further, always making comments that he has to watch his back when Morgana was around. She seemed to take it in good faith… mostly.

"The crowd seems to like these displays," said Merlin, playing with his scarf again. "Maybe we should swap places and have near death experiences more often – if it means finding new knights… not that the old ones are bad." Merlin spared a glance at Bedivere and Gallfoy, who smiled back a little tightly. They were still a little embarrassed at how much they had fallen under Merlin's spell when he was being a 'soldier boy' as Arthur had put it.

One training session on the field after the throne room incident had proven that Merlin and Arthur were back to normal. Merlin had tripped on his own feet twice and cracked three shields – before even entering the mock battle. For his own part Arthur could not even light a fire without flint and cloth – any magic he had was well and truly gone.

Turning to his advisor Arthur grinned with a leer. This made Merlin gulp and his lip quivered as he smiled back. "Arthur?"

"Mn." Arthur simply leaned in and grabbed Merlin by his scarf. "I think we can give them another display to cheer at." He pulled Merlin forward and kissed him before he could respond, silencing any protest.

The kiss was passionate, deep and almost outlasted the crowd's applause.

_Farmland, outside Camelot_

"They say he pulled the sword clean out of the stone – only one that could do it, cause he'll be a great King one day… you just see."

The End.

_Thank you to all who have read and especially those who reviewed. There were many plot points I had planned from the start but some fell into place at the end. I hope you liked it. AshtakRa._


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